#anyway its 1 am and i am wide awake

[tan1shere]

Ellie x anxious reader !

A/n: hi my beautiful people, it's currently 3 am.. and I have work in a few hours but we won't talk about that 😍 got this little idea since I'm an overly anxious person. Mine always creeps up righttt when I'm about to sleep, if you're like me. I get you, and honestly I hope some of you are so I don't feel so alone. Or whether you get it any time of the day (ditto, I just get it worse at night.) This one's for you !! Anyways, enjoy :)

Masterlist

♤ Your anxiety came in all shapes, forms, and sizes. Any time, all day sometimes everyday. It's always going to be there, but you've tried to learn to control it. Buttt when that's not the case your loving girlfriend is always there to ease your pesky brain.

♤ It would always happen at night, when you'd get off to sleep, at first you kept silent. You didn't want to bother, nor be a nuisance towards Ellie, but one night she noticed something off about you.

- you were stalling, making up excuses of things you forgot to do that day.

"Shit, the laundry-"

"Bubba, you can always do it tomorrow. Come lay down with me sweetheart."

- her gentle tone soon got to you and you told her.

"What's gotten into you?"

- the look she gave you was pure worry, concerned for your frantic behavior. Then when you kept inhaling these breaths, making then end in slight sighs she just needed to get whatever it was out of you.

"M-my-"

- you shake your head, you felt so stupid, you begin to put your head on your hands, she pries them away so softly, getting you to look at her as she placed her soft fingers on your cheek.

"Talk to me. Please? It's hurting me knowing something is bothering you so much."

- you could tell she meant it. You always felt like no one did, feeling silly about your anxiety, as that's what others made you think. That you were just being dramatic. A baby. You let out another breath.

"I get really anxious, about heaps of things, to the point where my brain feels like its on fire and I can't focus on anything properly. It gets worse at night time, so I try to make myself tired, knowing that if I lay down wide awake my thoughts will scatter."

- she listens carefully to what you have to say, she was always such a good listener.

"Why didn't you tell me baby."

"I was scared you'd think I was pathetic.."

- your head lowers but she immediately stops that from happening. Her eyes on yours as she begins to speak in a soft tone.

"You, my girl. Are one of the most bravest woman I know. To have to deal with such a thing all the time is huge, and the fact that I've never even witnessed it shows how truly brave you are. Though I wish you told me sooner, its awful holding such things in."

- her hand never leaves your face stroking your cheek. You melt into her touch, her voice and presence making you sleepy. Maybe that's all you needed? Her?

"I love you, Els."

"I love you so much more angel."

♤ One technique she uses on you is the 5 things game. 5 things you can see, 4 things you can feel, 3 things you can hear, 2 things you can smell, and 1 thing you can taste. Which is always water that she gets for you.

- Youd just been having a panic attack, your emotions, your brain going mental. You felt like you couldn't breathe. When she heard something fall in the kitchen she came racing over to you. Your vision incredibly blury with a mixture of tears and whiteness from the light headedness.

"Hey hey, eyes on me."

- her voice was like silk, still in desperate need to calm you down.

"Come on baby."

- she would encourage you, moving your hand to her chest, trying to get you to calm down a tiny bit before she continued.

"5 things you can see."

- you'd take a second to respond not knowing if you could get words out, let alone forming a sentence.

"You.. *gulp* th- that glass.. that I just broke.."

- she didn't stop you rambling, the more words the better. She needed your mind far gone from any other thoughts.

"The counter, the sink. The early morning sky."

"Good good, 4 things you can feel. You got this mama."

- it'd keep going until you got to the last one, your brain was far from the original problem by then, but she needed you hydrated, knowing your mouth was also incredibly dry.

"Last but not least, one thing you can taste?"

- she grabs a fresh glass pouring water into it, giving it to you to drink. You take a good sip, letting it wet your mouth feeling so much more calm now.

"Water."

"That's my girl."

- she would always say that, making a smile spread across your face, you always felt so safe with her.

♤ Another one she will do on occasion is hold your hand gently, playing with your fingers and or rubbing small circles on your palm. Even when she holds your hand she will rub her thumb on the back of it. It distract you, calms you down. Especially if you're talking to someone, not only are you anxious but you're just genuinely awkward, so sometimes you freak out when talking to people. That's when she will grab it, letting you know she's there with you and there's nothing to worry about.

♤ yawning. You would always yawn when you felt short of breath, whenever you felt uneasy in your chest yawning seemed to help with that. Ellies noticed all your techniques over the years of being with you. Sometimes it made her feel like she couldn't help you in any way and it got to her, you'd assure her that you were fine but she knows that was far from the truth.

♤ so she studied your helping mechanisms, one was something hot on your chest, like a heating pack. It calmed you right down. Ellie even Googled some other things to try help. She once noticed after you had drunk a little bit that the type of alcohol seemed to make you sleepy.

- she was typing away at her computer when she came across something that said some alcohols can get you sleepy.

"Whatcha doin Els?"

- your soft voice was heard as you enter the room, her eyes meet yours.

"Just some research baby."

-she flashes you a smile, going to continue. You return the smile, going out the room to leave her be. As she continues to read articles, she found a home remedy to help with sleep, and anxiety. It was quite simple. Ellie came back downstairs and began to make it in a tiny bottle. She also read lavender was good for sleep, grabbing some oil of the scent from the cupboard, and putting a bit on the heating pack.

-you were in the living room, watching TV when she comes in super happy. Finally she could help you.

"What's this?"

"I made some things to help you sleep. These drops will help, put three on your tongue every night, and this heat pack. Which! Has some lavender oil rubbed into it."

- she ends her explanation off with a toothy smile, feeling so proud of herself. It only made you smile, feeling the secure feeling you'd always feel with her. She truly was your world.

:))

[oneofthetorturedpoets]

She’s a maneater part 1/?

parings: melissa schemmenti x reader

warnings for this chapter: melissa is a bully

-

you woke up with a jolt as the blanket was ripped off of you for the fifth time that night.

"oh my god, melissa" you groan, turning over, expecting to see her sleeping but shes wide awake on her side, with her head resting on her hand.

"you kept letting go of me and im tired of it." you chuckle slightly, trying to ignore your irritation. you pull her into you quickly, she yelps out. you lean in close.

"a simple ask would do you just fine, my love." you whisper against her lips.

"well, you know me, stubborn as always" she smiles and connects your lips, the domestic nature causing your heart to stutter, she pulls away slowly, her hand coming to your cheek. "I love you."

you and melissa weren’t always this way, it took a lot to get where you are now.

-

you were late your first day, traffic was stressing you out and you struggled to find parking spot in such a busy street, you had to park 5 minutes away. you were rushing into the school doors, through the hallway when-

BAM.

you slam right into the red headed teacher. her papers went flying and so did your ego. the look she gave you might as well killed you.

“i am so sorry-” she immediately drops to the floor, grabbing her stuff. you follow, trying to compensate for your clumsiness.

“why are you running through the doors anyways? if your kid is late then sign the damn tardy slip” angry radiating from her words.

“oh no- i don’t have a kid. i work here. i actually just got hired” her head swings over to look at you. you wish the earth would swallow you whole.

“30 minutes late on your first day” she scoffs. “great first impression, you’ll definitely get along with ava” she storms off, leaving me confused and flustered.

I walk down the hallways to the principals office, Ava is already leaning on the door frame, ready to great me.

"you're late." she says, sternly.

"I know, I'm so sorry, I couldn't find a parking spot so I parked super-"

"it was a joke, I don't care" she walks into her office. "pshhh no one told me I hired another Janine." she laughs, looking at the camera. the guy zooms in on my confused face. "anyways, you're in room 12, just down the hall, where you came in. your kids are currently with ms. schemmenti's class, room 13, you're taking her third graders also. if you talk to Melissa, she'll sort out who's who's." Ava's already on tiktok, laughing about a video before I can respond.

its going to be a long day.

-

I look up at the sign on the door that says room 13, I take a deep breath before opening the door, knocking as I do so. All of the attention is on me as the room goes quite. I look around the room, only seeing the students.

"hey kids! I'm the new third grade teacher that's going to be next door." they all shout hi in return. "where's your teacher?" I ask as the door opens again.

"oh god, not you again." I spin around, seeing the same redhead from earlier.

"uh- hi, im y/n y/ln. the teacher next door" I say, holding my hand out waiting for hers. she looks down at my hand and then back up at me, before rolling her eyes.

"alright guys! this is ms. y/ln, she will be taking half of you's with her, so if you're in third grade, please line up at the door, single file!" the students jump up, lining up in an almost perfect line.

"thank you, ms. schemmenti, if you need anything, ill be just over there." I say as I point towards the wall. she doesn't even look at me so I take it as a hint to leave.

-

three months later

“i’m tired of the new kid, she waltzes in here, all miss clumsy but charming, takes over the kids hearts and everyone loves her” melissa vents to barbra

“remind me again, are you trying to offend or compliment her? she’s been doing everything right, she’s the teacher we’ve been wanting to work here, what do you hate so much about her?” melissa stands up, pacing the 2nd grade class.

“she’s a newbie, and newbies make mistakes that we can’t afford” barbra shakes her head, not believing melissa.

“that’s not the real reason” the bell rings “talk to me when you find out the reason, until then, be nice to the kid” melissa huffs as she sits back down, watching barbra walk out and her kids march in.

-

a/n: first chapter of my new series is done!! this is a short chapter just to get something out there, hope you guys like it!

taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta @dopenightmaretyphoon

to be added to my taglist, send in an ask!!

[uptoolateart]

Thanks to @hailqiqi for tagging me about ten thousand years ago. I just have so much to do 😩 Anyway! The original post said:

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (except me because obvs I have done it). Spread the self-love ❤

Here we go!

Breaking Free - the whole series

I'm cheating here, because I'm listing a multi-book series, but I can't help it. I'm super proud of it. It started as a one-shot of Adrien and Marinette finding Gabriel's basement, and then it spiralled hard. It begins right after Strike Back. From there, it's a complicated, twisted and very bumpy ride.

'How did you think this up?' my BF beta has asked me many times. I don't know, guys. It just seemed obvious at the time 😆

This was my 'getting back into writing' book, after a lengthy creative hiatus / identity crisis. I churned out chapters because I needed to get back in the game and rediscover myself artistically. Then I went back and edited the whole thing a couple years later, to make it better (and expand it by about 20k words).

It became a series because I had requests for sequel scenes. Again, a couple one-shot ideas spiralled, and I merged them with another premise that had been kicking around in my head - Adrien, years later, trying to heal from everything as an adult and find himself as a father with his own teenage son.

That then spiralled again, and I ended up exploring Felix in depth, too, and pushing all the sentibeing stuff to extremes. The whole concept for Book 4 intimidated the hell out of me as soon as I thought of it. I was so worried I wouldn't be able to do it justice. Writing it was sometimes physical torture. But in the end, I think Book 4 contains what might be the best chapter I've ever written for anything in my life.

Still, the saga continues! Book 5 starts posting in 4 weeks. I've set myself another crazy challenge with that one, but I am determined to pull it off. I also have ideas for a few one-shots to collect in a volume I'm calling Book 6. The series is going to be like 700k words by the time I'm done. Maybe more. Will I ever truly finish this thing? I don't know. I fell so hard into the universe I created, and it's going to be hard to let it go. I fully expect to cry when I post the epilogue to Book 5.

Book 1 was also how I really got into this fandom and started making friends. Honestly, that book changed my life. Yeah...I'm gonna cry.

Dreaming Wide Awake

This was my follow-up to the S5 finale. The show is now going its own way, but I'm still so proud of how all the tension and emotions turned out in this fic. Again, the story is complex. It's also really surreal, and I think the battle scenes are some of my best. I was soooo nervous about the reader response to one of the big moments in it, but the unanimous reaction was everything I'd hoped for.

How the Heart Learns to Beat Again

A backstory from Nathalie's POV. It starts with her at age 25, as the sole survivor of an old magical order, going on extraordinary adventures seeking legendary artefacts. Then she meets the Agrestes, loses her magic, and gets roped into a new crazy world.

The story also explores Gabriel and Emilie, Colt and Amelie, and Adrien and Felix's creation / infancy. Book 2 (covering Emilie's death and how Gabriel and Nathalie start using the butterfly and peacock) starts posting on Monday. I think these fics are possibly the most mature writing I've ever done. There's a certain 'voice' to them that stands out from my other writing.

Finding a Way (Jurassic Park AU)

This is my most successful fic, so far. It's half goofy / romantic and half tense / action - with a lot of gore. I thought it would be total crack, but it took on a life of its own and became much more serious. There was something magical about how it all came together. I'm planning a sequel, but I need to get through a few other big fics first.

Voyage! Tales of the USS Miraculous (Star Trek Crossover)

This is so far from finished, but I'm having a blast writing it. It's basically all planned out and going to be mammoth when it's done. There's a little of everything in it, and you don't need to know Star Trek to understand it. I'm loving the reader speculations over what might be going on.

Okay! That's my list. Tagging @raspberrycatapult @kuromori4 @cardiac-agreste @mysticraven20 @trinketsinthesun @hamsteriffic @jigglypuff1994 @fandomofone

[adrift-in-thyme]

Whumptober Day 1: “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Read it on Ao3

- Wild & Four

- Summary: On the battlefield, Wild suffers a concussion and Four has to split to keep him safe

CW for head injury/concussion and brief mention of vomit

—————————

“Champion! Behind you! Look out!”

Four knows it’s too late even as he shouts. In the time it has taken him to turn around, catch sight of the armed moblin, and open his mouth, the monster has already raised its weapon. And at the distance he is from Wild, there is no possible way he can make it to him in time, even at a sprint. But he tries anyway. Cutting down the nearest monster, he breaks into a run.

Wild whirls around as his warning registers, sword held ready. His eyes widen as he sees the moblin and for a split second Four dares hope that maybe, just maybe he will have a chance at defending himself or getting out of the way. Sure enough, Wild throws himself into a sideways leap. But even as he does, the moblin swings its weapon in a wide, horizontal arc.

The sword catches up with the champion at the tail end of its journey. It collides with his side with such force Four is certain he can hear the bones in his arm breaking from here. Wild goes flying head over heels, then lands a few feet away in a heap of bloodied tunic and spread-eagled limbs.

“Wild!”

Four looks between the champion and the monster that has now turned its eyes on him. If the others were here perhaps he could afford to rush to his friend’s side immediately. But they are back at the camp, awaiting the results of their patrol.

A patrol that was never supposed to lead to a camp full of black-blooded monsters.

Gritting his teeth, Four makes his decision. Holding the sword high, he closes his eyes and lets the familiar sensation wash over him. Magic flows through him and out, his emotions splitting and solidifying.

“Oh no! Wild!”

No sooner has he opened his eyes again, Red catches sight of their fallen friend. His face spasms as he takes a step forward.

“We’ve gotta help him!”

“You go to him, Red—” Vio says.

“And hurry it up,” Blue interrupts, gesturing toward the monsters that are now closing in on Wild’s prone body. “He hasn’t got much time.”

Vio nods. “I’ll come with you.”

“We’ll handle the monsters over here,” Green says, already turning on his heel. Blue lunges after him without hesitation.

Red doesn’t have to be told twice. He rushes over to Wild as fast as his legs can take him, cutting through any monsters within reach. Once he reaches the fallen champion, he skids to a halt. Sheathing his sword, he hits the ground on his knees beside him.

“Wild?”

Wild looks far worse from this proximity than he did from far away. His arm is indeed broken and lying at an unnatural angle. Blood darkens his tunic on his right side where the weapon hit him the hardest. The crimson liquid trickles down his forehead too and an angry bruise is already forming beneath it. Its purples and blues and golds stand starkly against the pallor of his skin.

Bright blue eyes blink open, then promptly shut. Wild groans.

“Is he awake?”

Vio comes to kneel beside Red, brows pinched in a frown. Red wipes at his eyes, swiping away the beginnings of tears.

“I-I think he’s waking up.” He leans forward. “Wild, can you hear me?”

“Mhm.” The champion groans again, shifting a bit. “Hurts.”

Red puts a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. We’re here now. We’ll make it stop hurting.”

Vio turns away and starts rifling in his pouch. “Prop his head up, Red.”

With gentle hands, Red complies, guiding the champion’s head into his lap. Wild pries his eyes open and squints up at him.

“Wha…happened?”

“You were wounded in battle,” Vio says. He is in the process of setting out supplies now. A bottle of potion stands amongst the blades of grass, its crimson contents glittering in the midday sun. A bundle of bandages joins it. “Though we’ve yet to ascertain the severity.”

Red thinks for a moment, then holds two fingers in front of Wild’s face. Try as he might, he can’t quite still their trembling. But it doesn’t matter if anyone sees. Not now, with his friend so severely injured. And besides, he wants to help in any way that he can.

“How many fingers am I holding up, champion?”

Wild blinks mismatched pupils, trying and failing to focus on the appendages. After a moment, he snickers.

“Four.” He starts to giggle. “Like–like you. Four Fours.”

Red looks over at Vio. The violet-clad hero pauses in the middle of unscrewing the potion, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Seeing double, acting loopy, pupils in two different sizes – the symptoms all point to the thing he had suspected since seeing Wild’s head injury. A concussion.

“Hey!” Blue calls from a short distance away. The screams of monsters drift over from where he and Green are still battling fiercely. “You guys gonna keep us updated or what? Is he okay?”

At that moment, Wild’s laughter turns into a wet, hacking cough that shakes his injured body and brings tears to his eyes. Cringing, Red strokes his hair in what he hopes is a comforting gesture.

This situation is getting worse by the moment, he is sure of it.

“He has a concussion,” Vio calls back. “And some bad bruising, broken bones. I can’t be certain of the internal damage.”

“But the potion will take care of that, right?” Red asks, desperately.

Vio shrugs. “For now. But we need to get him back to camp as soon as possible. He’ll need rest and a fairy. Here, he can’t get either.”

Wild’s coughs subside, though he shivers with the aftershocks of them. He slumps back against Red, breathless. Sniffling, the hero reaches down and slips his hand into Wild’s.

“You’re gonna be okay.”

He squeezes and the champion squeezes back, albeit lightly.

“Don worry bout me,” he slurs, gazing dazedly at nothing. “Be fine.”

The very fact that he isn’t even attempting to get up, tells of the lie in his words. But neither Red nor Vio sees fit to point it out. Merely sharing another glance with Red, Vio sets aside the cap of the bottle. He watches Wild for a moment to ensure he won’t begin coughing again, or worse, vomit. Then, when he is relatively certain he won’t do either, he touches the bottle to his lips.

“Here, drink.”

He tips it back just enough that the liquid slides sluggishly into Wild’s mouth and the champion swallows obediently. Once he has drained it all, Vio places the bottle back in his pouch and turns his attention to the bandages. Green and Blue jog up to the little group as he unravels them, sheathing their swords. Wild looks up at them, a slight grin tugging at his lips.

“Four Fours,” he chuckles, and Blue’s face instantly folds into a death glare.

“What on earth is he rambling on about?”

“He’s out of it,” Green says, taking note of the bleariness in Wild’s unfocused eyes and the blood still drenching his tunic. “You said he had a concussion, Vio?”

Vio nods. “The potion should take effect soon, but he’ll still need to rest up.”

“We need to get back to camp as soon as possible.”

“Yes. Here, help me move his tunic out of the way.”

Green bends and lifts the fabric up and away, revealing a sizable gash marring the champion’s left side. He lets out hiss as the air touches it, hold on Red’s hand tightening.

“It’s okay,” Red murmurs.

Vio immediately gets to work, cleaning the wound as best he can and then wrapping it in the gauze. The other three help in any way they can and between them all, they manage to make quick work of it.

“That’ll have to do for now,” Vio says, standing up and brushing off his tunic.

Blue blows out a sigh. “Great. Now we’ve gotta get him back.”

“I can walk,” Wild croaks. He is a bit more alert now that the potion has had some time to work. But still in no state to go skipping back to camp.

He looks up at them, familiar determination coloring his eyes. “Sorry, but you guys definitely can’t carry me.”

“No, we can’t,” Vio agrees, calmly. “Not unless we absolutely have to, at least.”

“But we’ll support you every step of the way!” Red promises.

Green nods. “Of course we will. Every step of the way.” He unsheathes his sword and holds it high, already beginning to shimmer in colors of four. “Though we’ll do it as one.”

Between one blink and the next, one small hero is standing before Wild. He offers the champion a small smile.

“But don’t worry. No matter what you won’t be alone.”

He bends and hooks his arm under Wild’s shoulders. The height difference makes maneuvering him upright difficult, and when Wild stumbles, both of them nearly topple. But Four manages. And soon they are limping down the hill, back towards camp.

Back towards safety.

Four breathes a sigh of relief. His body is vaguely sore from the battle and splitting, his mind worn from worry and strategy. The sooner they can return for both of their sakes, the better.

“Hey Four,” Wild mumbles, beside him.

“Yes?”

“Thanks.”

Four smiles. “Anytime, Wild.”

[mythica0]

is hazel and dev having a sleepover and dev gets tickled good to put in ya story orrr...

Sneak attack!

🎂:Fop; A new wish

🧁: Dev

🍫: Hazel

Summary: its hazels turn to attack in her and Dev’s tickle war, and she decides to strike when he’s most vulnerable-while he’s asleep.

A/N: thank you so much for the request! This’ll do right in with the story I have going! Hope you don’t mind me adding Winn and Jazz to the mix! Enjoyyyyy;3

Sneak attack!

The Fairy Friend Group(tm) we’re having a sleepover at Dev’s house.

Dev’s house was chosen for obvious reasons, being that it’s way bigger and there’s less restrictions because there aren’t any adults around.

It was a clear, Friday night, with a full moon beautifully lighting up the sky. They had all stayed up ridiculously late, it was now 1:30 in the morning. They had watched movies, baked and eaten cookies, played many classic sleepover games and -blah, blah you get it.

After they had settled in for the night, Dev was the first to fall asleep. This was perfect for Hazel’s plan.

She whispered to the other’s- “hey guys, can you do me a favor in the morning?”

They looked at her questioningly. “It’s my turn, remember?” She didn’t need to explain what she meant, as their eyes dawned with realization. She continued, “I want to surprise him. If I wake you guys up, will you gently hold him down for me?” They nodded enthusiastically. ‘Perfect.’

They all slept through the night peacefully, and then Hazel woke up at around 9:00 AM. Thankfully for her plan, Dev was a heavy sleeper, and not likely to wake up on his own. Thats how she knew this would work, she wasn’t worried about Dev being the first to wake.

She gently shook Winn and Jasmine awake. They sleepily opened their eyes, before remembering their conversation from the previous night(even though technically it was earlier that morning)

They shuffled their way over to where Dev was sound asleep, lying on his side. They carefully flipped him so he was laying on his back, and then grabbed his arms and held them in place, careful to be very gentle.

Then, Hazel struck, poking at his sides rapidly.

Dev burst awake from the feeling, his giggles sounding sleepy. “Whahat thehe!”

Hazel giggled right back. “Time to wake up, Dev!”

“Whahahat ahahare yohou dohohoing?!”

“I’m tickling you, duh. I thought that was kinda obvious.” She snarked back.

“Yeahaha I mehehehant whyhyhy!”

“Can someone not just want their friend to wake up with a smile on his face?”

“Nohohoho! Thehey cahahant!”

“Well, I am anyway!”

“Yohohou hahave ahan ahalteheheriohor mohohotive, dohont lihie!”

“Okay, yeah, i do, so what? It’s my turn in the war! And I’m gonna get you good for what you pulled on Wednesday.”

It was just now, when he tried to curl up, that Dev realized he was pinned.

“Whyhy ahare yohou twhoho ohon heher sihihide! Shehe stahahartehed ihit!”

Winn was the one who answered. “We like seeing you get tickled to pieces, for one.”

Jasmine nodded and spoke as well, “yeah! And we were Hazel’s friends first, soooo.”

“Uhuhugh! Threhehee ahahagaihainst ohone ihis cheheheating!”

“Too bad, Dev! You’re just gonna have to take it! Now laugh for me!”

“Ihi aham lahaughing!” As if to prove his point, he fell into another fit of giggles, squirming lightly but unable to get away.

“Oh, I don’t think you’re in the position to be sassing me right now!”

“Tohoo bahad!”

“You really wanna go there? I’ll give you one chance to take it back.”

Dev just glared at her as best he could with a smile so wide. “Noho!” He stuck his tongue out for a moment, before his mouth opened back up as his giggles took over.

“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you..”

Hazel then took a deep breath in, and Dev tried (and failed) to hide the giddy excitement panic in his eyes. It was definitely panic, not anything else. nope.

As soon as Hazel’s mouth touched his stomach he immediately got much louder, kicking his feet as they were the only part of him he could really move.

“You ready to give up, Dev? Hand over the trophy until it’s your turn again?”

“Nohoho wahahaHAy!” The end pitched up as she dig into his oh-so sensitive tummy.

“Your funeral.” Then she proceeded to nibble and blow raspberries, and scribble and wiggle and dig at his torso. His laughter was frantic, but also the happiest sound you’ve ever heard.

Dev thought he could hold out- until Winn and Jazz started throwing teases into the mix.

“Tickle tickle tickle~ dev~”

“Nohohoho! Dohohont sahahay thahahat!”

“Say what? Tickle?”

“YEhehehEs!”

“Why not? It’s such a fun word! Tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle! A tktktktktk!”

He would’ve covered his face if he could, but he couldn’t. So he just settled for turning his face into his raised arm.

“Aww what’s the problem, Dev~ are you flustered~” all they got in response was a giggly whine. Dev was actually thinking about giving in now, the teasing was just too much!

“C’mon, let us see that smile~” Jasmine gently tickled the side of his neck for a moment, causing him to move his head back forward reflexively.

“There we go~ now we can see that adorable smiling face of yours!”

“M’ Nohohot cuhuhute!”

“I really have to disagree, there.” Jasmine gave, and Winn hummed in agreement.

Then, they resumed their previous tease of saying that word. That horrible, awful, flustering word.

And eventually, that broke Dev’s walls. “Ahahalrihihight, ihi gihive uhup ihi gihive uhup!”

Hazel finally ceased her relentless attack, and Winn and Jazz let go of him. As soon as he could move, he curled into a ball, letting out leftover giggles.

“Attahahacking mehe while I was asleheep, was a dirty mohove.”

“What can I say, I like to play dirty. A nice sneak attack is a great strategy.”

“Ughhhhhh and you guys teaming up on me is so unfair.”

“Alls fair in love and war, friendo!”

Dev groaned. He would just have to do something even better next time.

———THE END————————————————

[hyperactive-cowboy]

So that's the second chapter of the landoscar christmas series, I have literally no idea of how to make a link between this chapter and the first one, so if you want to read it then you'll have to search it yourself, but it is my last post so no big problem. You have probably realized it, but I got inspired to write this story by "All I want for Christmas", so the titles of the chapters are part of the lyrics. As always if you have suggestions or there are issues with the story don't be shy kidsss. Oh and if someone can tell me how to make the link I'd be grateful for my life. ENJOYYYY

Make my wish come true

Warnings: like one curse word at the start and one at the end (I don't even know if those are considered curse words), the littlest angst and fluff. Some words are translated with google because english is not my first lenguage. It's not beta read because I don't have the energy to do it right now as I had planned on finishing the series in 2023 but here I am.

Ship: F1 involved!Lando Norris × not F1 involved!Oscar Piastri (established relationship)

Wc: 3.3k

Chapter 1, 2, 3

Summary: Max and Logan help Lando in his little gremlin plan to propose to Oscar during their christmas party.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Max's phone rang in the exact moment his dream was at its climax, waking him up without letting him know the finale of it.

Max looked at who was calling at such an hour in the morning.

It was Lando. Then probably it wasn't important.

Max deactivated the sound and left the vibration on, trying to fall asleep again just to see the end of his dream, but the buzzing wouldn't stop.

With a mix of frustration and malcontent for his not-well-started Wednesday morning, Max took the phone and answered his best friend.

"What do you want" he asked abruptly

"'Morning sunshine, I also miss my best friend so much" Lando answered sarcastically and Max could perfectly picture in his head the wide tooth-gaped smile his best friend almost certainly had on his face. 

"It's not a good morning when it starts like this" Max returned. 

Lando, on the other hand, laughed at his friend's distress. Max knew that, sooner or later, he would've killed his best friend.

"Anyways, I'm sorry for your pain, but I've just got an idea" it surely wasn't a good start. Every time Lando said stuff like that, it didn't end well.

"Oh god"

"I want to propose to Oscar"

"OH GOD" 

Suddenly Max was sitting on the bed, totally awake and vigile.

He didn't know what to say. Well actually there were too many things he wanted to say but couldn't choose which one to say first. Between the "when?" The"where?" and the "Why?"s. 

Instead, his mouth (apparently not connected with his brain) deliberately and on its own expressed all his emotions at once.

"What the fuck"

"Yep it was pretty explanatory" 

Neither of them knew how to behave. Obviously some people they both knew have got married before, but neither Lando nor Max have ever experienced a crazy idea like that. 

"So… when?" The moment Max started to metabolize the news, he also began to like it in some weird way. 

He knew the two have been together for some time and (at least for Lando) have also been pining over each other for even longer, so it was logical that one of them would've done the big step in a short time.

"Okay, well, that's my plan…" 

Lando started to explain The Big Plan to his best friend, who was more excited every new sentence he heard. 

Max had known him for so many years and has always thought of him as more immature and childish than other people their age, but he was sure Lando would've made the perfect husband to Oscar.

This train of thoughts continued and extended in every direction that included memories of Lando, the emotions took over him and made his eyes water a bit. But thinking about it, those words were good, he should've taken notes for his best man's speech.

"Let's recap it from the start once again" Max read on his phone. It was at least the 25th time Lando had asked him to repeat The Plan. He was sure he could've acted even other people's parts in the show. 

"Dear god I only have to say yes when he asks me about the party" Max texted back.

"It's not difficult" then he added just to emphasize the pointlessness of Lando's worries.

"Don't you dare make fun of me I'm just anxious, it's normal I guess" Lando's answer arrived in no time

Max smiled to himself shaking his head. Some things never change, he thought while unfolding all the memories with his best friend and rewatching every time Lando acted anxious. There were a few.

"If your calculus are right, he's calling me in ten minutes, so maybe I should get ready to answer him?" Max asked, trying to find an excuse to not leave his friend on seen in this particular situation.

Lando texted just a "yeah you're right" and then left the chat.

Max sighed and closed his phone, just to get his hands on his face and rub his eyes.

"Hey Osc, long time no see" is the sentence Max and Lando have accorded for him to say, and he did it spectacularly. As if he hasn't repeated it for the past twenty minutes without a single stop.

"Yeah it has been a tough period. We were planning a christmas party at our place on wednesday, are you in?" Oscar asked him.

"But isn't Lando away?" He was trying really, really hard not to abruptly laugh and scream at Oscar's ear.

"Yeah, in fact we wanted to do this thing together, but then he was called away and we can't postpone it anymore" Max thought he sounded a little exasperated.

He felt his lungs expand and contract without an order, his cheeks had become red and swollen, in his eyes there were tears for holding it back, but then he couldn't take it anymore. 

Max let out a soft giggle, but that giggle meant to him like the most powerful and exorbitant laughter he had ever had, mostly because he felt (he could literally touch it) the importance of his position in there.

"Yeah I think I'll be there" 

"K, thanks mate" Oscar sounded pretty hesitant with his answer. "And you can come with who you want" he then added.

"Great, thanks. Bye" Max hung up just right before exploding in what he thought was one of the biggest laughs of his life.

He didn't know the cause of this, but that situation was so funny to him. Maybe it was just the stress. Most probably it was just the stress. But why should he be stressed? It wasn't even his proposal. What would have happened when it was HIS time to take the big step? Max didn't even want to think about it for a minute.

He jumped back to reality and immediately opened his and Lando's chat to update him.

Max rang the doorbell of his best friend's house and waited for his best friend's boyfriend (and next-to-be fiance) to open the door.

"Never saw you awake this early" 

Oh right! Oscar's humor was something he could never forget about.

"I'm happy to see you too" Max stated with the biggest smile stamped on his face. He patted the boy's shoulders with both his hands and looked him down, trying to imagine the guy with a different surname (something like Norris) and a different look (a smoking might be ideal, and maybe a golden ring on that finger could be even better).

"Yeah" Oscar mouthed with a raised eyebrow and a confused expression.

 Max entered the house without needing a welcome. He treated it like it was his, he didn't care if the actual owner was okay with it. At least he could say the same happened every time Lando and Oscar were at his place.

"What are you doing here?" 

If there was another person in the room, they could've heard three voices ask the same question at the same time.

"No no no. I asked you first" Logan yelled at Max getting up pretty fast from the couch he was previously lying on.

"Well yes man, but really why are YOU here" he repeated.

"I'm here to help Oscar. And you?"

"I'm too" 

Max and Logan looked at each other with a slightly confused stare, narrowing their gazes and tilting their head to one side or the other.

Oscar cleared his voice behind them and just then he realized he couldn't tell Logan what he was about to. ("Well, actually I'm here to help Lando" would've been his response).

"Max, can I ask you to get away from my home? I already have enough help" The youngest boy looked exhausted. It must be tiring to project an event like this almost alone and with his boyfriend hundred of miles away from him. 

He could not understand, but he surely could pity him.

"I'm very sorry Oscar, but I'm not leaving this house until tonight" 

"Okay then" he looked more exasperated every sentence. 

"Don't worry. This will be the best party you've ever been to" 

"Do I have to remind you this is MY house? Maybe I should be the one preparing it" Oscar pointed out almost ironically.

"We will be better than you, trust me" Logan, who has been silent the entirety of the time, had stepped in the conversation to support him, and Max couldn't be more grateful.

With all due care, Oscar left his house in his friend's hands and headed to work. 

Max and Logan had only six hours and a half to transform that house into a HOUSE.

"So why are you here really?" Logan broke the silence, leaning on the shopping cart as he pushed it.

The two were at the mall searching for cute items and classic christmas stuff to hang here and there in the house to make it look more comfortable.

They have given themselves a specific and perfectly timed list to follow religiously: the times were calculated per second and the both of them had certain works to complete.

"Lando wants to propose Oscar tonight" Max let out.

"LANDO WANTS TO WHAT?'' Logan cried out in the middle of the cheese island, standing up like he was electrocuted and launching three slices of gruyere into the cart.

"SHHH why are you screaming?" Max whisper-yelled at him.

"Oh ya know? It's just my best friend getting married to yours, why aren't YOU screaming?" Logan replied in the same voice tone.

"I've already had my screaming session a week ago" he explained.

Max looked at his clock and calculated there were two minutes of delay in their schedule.

Logan looked around himself in disbelief, pinching his own cheeks to make sure he was not living a dream. 

He looked at Max right in his eyes for the first time in their entire lives. 

"Then we have to make sure we do the best of it" Logan stated resolutely, speeding even more than before, driving his shopping cart like a formula 1 car.

"You go bake the cookies, I'll get the house aesthetically ready" 

Max nodded at his newfound friend and sprinted into the kitchen to prepare all the ingredients he needed.

Right after putting on his freshly-bought apron, his phone started vibrating.

Max boringly looked at the screen and would've even hung up, but noticing Lando's nickname on it, he thought it was preferible answering, after all that work.

He accepted the call and put on the speaker while calling Logan to make him participate at the "meeting".

"Everything's okay?" Lando's altered voice sounded more worried than Max had ever heard him.

He took a moment to appreciate the fact that his best friend was giving this plan all his soul. You could know how much he cared about Oscar (or generally about his loved ones, even if he didn't show it that much) just by hearing his preoccupied voice.

"Yep, we're almost ready" Logan answered, just as joyful as Max.

"Wait, who was that?"

"It's Logan. I know everything and I couldn't agree more with you on this decision" his face was stamped with a smile from ear to ear and his eyes shone brighter than the stars.

"Oh hey Log sorry, didn't know you were there too. Does he suspect anything?"

"There is absolutely no way he could. We were silent as a grave" Max answered, almost kicking his feet like a schoolgirl.

"Well then-" Lando's sentence start was interrupted by a not a little hasty Max, who was sure he was about to scream.

"Now that you have secured yours and our wellbeing, can we finish our work? We have a pretty full agenda to follow" 

"Oh okay then, I'm halfway there anyways" 

"Yeah yeah, you know where I keep my second set of keys" and without another word, he hung up the phone just as fast as they both came back to their respective jobs in the house.

"Hey that chocolate dough looks fantastic" Logan laughed entering the kitchen, looking at a totally covered in chocolate dough Max.

"Where? I thought I cleaned everything" Max responded. 

Logan sighed and continued his laugh, then threw a clean kitchen towel at him, telling him where he was still dirty while taking a seat to taste what they had prepared during the evening.

"It's not that bad" he exclaimed, chewing the biggest bite of cheese and ham toast Max had ever seen.

Logan raised the volume of his phone when he heard the first bits of  "Last Christmas" were playing.

By then, the trust between the two was near to the one in a years-long friendship, after all those hours spent together and a common goal in mind. For this sole reason, Logan felt confident enough to start singing his favorite Christmas song.

Max turned around with a shocked look. Not because Logan's singing skills were terrible, well not only because of this, but because he didn't think Logan was one to start singing around what was a stranger until a few hours before. 

And again his emotions changed, his heart melting a little. Logan singing like this in front of him meant that he trusted him enough to show him his silly side.

Max decided to match his energy and start wiggling his hips and dancing a little around the room.

The two were so lost in the moment they couldn't hear the owner of the house entering firstly the place, and then the kitchen.

"What in the world you two?" Oscar looked totally agape.

 Max and Logan fastly looked at each other and the american jumped between his best friend and his new one to try protecting him from any crazy action the Aussie could have done.

Max and Logan both knew Oscar wasn't one for physical contact, (everybody around him knew it) and because of it they were used to him never touching them. This was why, when they saw him coming this close so fastly, they were scared Oscar was about to stab one or both of them with a random pointy ornament found in the home.

It must've been a particularly shocking period for Max.

First Lando's announcement, then Logan's new friendship, and now a hug from Oscar.

"Thank you for everything" Max and Logan heard Oscar's muffled voice buried in their clothes and both moved a little because of the little gesture.

"That's no problem mate, really" Max assured him.

"C'mon now, there's people arriving here to party" Logan tried to lighten up the mood, receiving the tiniest and cutest laugh from Oscar.

"I don't think it's the worst idea you've had until now" Max whisper-screamed at his phone in his best friend's kitchen while everybody else, including Oscar, in the living room was living their best life.

It was at least the fourth phrase he had heard from Lando about what he thought could be the best starter of his proposal-speech.

"Well, at least not the weirdest" he continued.

"Ehy!" Lando laughed at him, but still his stress wasn't relieved, not even a bit.

Max, for the fiftieth time, didn't know how to act.

Like, what did he have to say? Something funny to let the pressure decrease? Or something meaningful to be That One friend for once?

He decided that saying nothing was the best option. For both, him and his friend. He was, actually, not a hundred percent sure about it, but on the spot he failed to think about anything better.

"I think it's better if I go now" Max admitted after a few moments of silence.

He received a "yeah" as an answer and immediately hung up.

Max was totally sure there were more mature things to do than he, seconds after, did. But, unfortunately, less mature things are usually the more spontaneous ones.

This is why, when his phone turned on again, seeing the new message from Lando and texted him back, the only natural thing to do that came to his mind was to start jumping and giggling, just like a schoolgirl.

He got only one thing not calculated in his mind: the fact that Oscar might be keen on entering his own kitchen for whatever reason. 

So when he turned around to face the exit, he found there on the door an astonished Oscar staring at him.

Max couldn't tell what was open wider: Oscar's eyes or his mouth.

Anyway, he had to think about a not-too-much- suspicious reaction on the spot. And surely he had never been good at thinking on the spot.

That's the reason why the first thing Max did was rebuking him, closing the door on his face.

Just a single moment after he thought that maybe his actions were more suspicious than anything else he could have done. 

With a worried expression folding his eyebrows, Max took his phone from the marble table's surface again and fastly texted to his friend he might have done something wrong.

"I'm here"

This was the message he had been waiting for the entire time, but now that Lando had sent it to him, Max was starting to get agitated again, knowing exactly what it meant.

"Is everything ready?" Was the following text he received, to which he answered with a "gimme 5 mins" 

The only three things he had to do were: inform Logan, inform every other guest and prepare Oscar.

The guests heard the news with surprise and loving eyes, while Logan started to sweat a bit.

Last point on his list was to take Oscar in front of the entrance and then his work would be done perfectly. 

But where the hell was Oscar? He had asked Liam, Max (the other one) and even Niran, but they knew less than him. So he searched in every room of the house, even the bathroom, but when he had knocked on the bathroom door, Logan's voice had answered him.

Max asked his and Lando's long time friend to text the next-to-be fiance and tell him to wait.

He tried to think about what could have happened: Lando would have rang the doorbell and Max would've opened the door instead of Oscar and Lando would've found his best friend instead of the love of his life in front of him (already on one knee and with the ring box open and about to repeat the speech he had been talking about for weeks) and then Lando would've asked him "what the hell?" and then he should have answered him with something like "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but we have lost your future husband, we apologize for the unease" and what could've been Lando's reaction to it all?

Max's morbius thoughts were taking such a part of his brain, he didn't realize Logan had taken Oscar all the way in the living room, just right before entering the entrance.

When Max turned around and saw him, immediately looked at his friend Niran, winking at him as a way to give him the signal for Lando to ring.

All the guests were ready with their phones in their hands, faking sending and receiving messages or searching for something on google. Actually they were all about to flash the lights of their phones to make the atmosphere, using the devices just like in the 70s they used lighters.

Except for Charles: he was the one in charge of recording the video, in fact he had the best position of sight.

Max got out of the kitchen as the doorbell rang and Oscar (in a new outfit) rushed to open the door.

"My guest must've arrived" he announced looking at the young Aussie.

From his point of view, Max couldn't properly see all the scene, so he moved through the tangle of guests to crouch down one step away from Charles.

From there, Max could see everything perfectly: Oscar's (flabbergasted, he might add) expression, the fabulous ring, and most importantly his kneeling best friend and the biggest smile he had ever seen on his face.

[ghoultrifle]

mushy may day four !!!!

prompt: wound tending/first aid

relationship: aurora/rain

word count: 700

cws: dry skin, dermatillomania, skin picking, wounds, blood. no graphic detail for any of the above though

notes: this is purely self indulgent so please be nice. also i am not recommending the wound care procedures displayed in this fic and i cannot vouch for their safety, proceed with caution and do not try at home :))

below the cut or on ao3 :))

Aurora jostles Rain awake, “Rainy you gotta get up, started my period and it’s got on the sheets.” She sounds an equal part panicked and fed up.

“Hmm, whatcha doing?”

“There’s blood all over the sheets, Rain, we gotta clean up. Can you strip the sheets while I clean myself up?”

He opens his eyes, a thick film of sleep blurring his vision. Blinking, his eyes focus on first the sheets and then his own arms. “Shit, sorry Rory, that’s me. You’re fine, no period, promise.”

Rain’s skin is naturally dry and flaky. As a water ghoul out of water he struggles with keeping moisturised. Combining that with dermatillomania makes for a vicious cycle of dry skin, picking, and sometimes, if his mind and body let him, healing. He glares at his inner elbows, shit, he must have scratched them in his sleep again.

“Really sorry Aurora, thought I could get away with it, but,” he hiccups, struggling to find his words or his breath.

“It’s alright Rainshower, I was going to change the sheets anyway, no matter the reason.” Puppy dog eyes reach her own pupils, please don’t leave, they say. “Or I could help you out first, yeah? How does that sound?” Rain nods silently.

Guiding Rain to the ensuite, Aurora has one hand rubbing soothing circles on his back and another texting for Mountain to bring the water ghoul’s special first aid kit. She sits him down on the closed toilet lid while she wets a cloth in warm water.

“Okay, this is going to hurt like a bitch but you’re gonna be brave about it,” Aurora commands. She doesn’t ever come across as mean or indifferent but it’s her own unique form of encouragement. Rain winces before hissing and thrashing as the ghoul in front of him gently wipes away the dried blood and cleans the wounds.

“Don’t know why I keep doing it,” he laments. Why does he continue to scratch and pick and peel away when he knows it’ll have to be cleaned up and he knows the pain will be unbearable every time?

“Because it’s a compulsion, sweetheart, you can’t help it.” She continues to wipe him, making sure the remnants of the night are minimal. A knock comes at the door accompanied by a hand blindly reaching in with a battered old plastic bag in it.

“Gotcha things Rainy, take care,” the disembodied hand says before placing it on the counter and leaving. The medical kit contains a big tub of moisturiser, plenty of dressings, scissors to cut to size, enough medical tape to repair ancient mummies, and tubular bandages to keep it all in place. In true Rain fashion, it’s all been chucked in the tatty bag haphazardly. The scissors are sticking out through a hole and the bandage has come off its roll, swimming freely among the other items. Aurora just laughs.

“Of course this is your kit,” she chuckles. “Go on then, what do you need?”

“Impregnate the dressing then attach it with the tape, if you could please?”

The look on her face is priceless, eyes wide and brows high, a smile of disbelief, “Um, not sure I have the uhh equipment for that Rainy,” she giggles.

He shoots her back a dead stare but behind it, she knows he appreciates the humour. Squirting a big dollop of ointment onto the dressing she secures it to his arm. She pats it to spread the cream and signals to Rain to get up.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of changing the sheets, mister,” she says.

But upon exiting the bathroom they find a fresh set of sheets adorned with drawings of birds and flora, looking at each other they both shout out, “Thanks Mount!”

They cuddle up into bed, Rain once again spooning Aurora, “Thanks, songbird,” he says, pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck. “Thought you were gonna freak out about it but you just, took care of me. Was really nice.”

“Of course I took care of you Rainy, I hate seeing you in pain and, besides, it’s only a little blood, I’ve seen Dew produce a more impressive piece of art with a paper cut!”

Rain sighs contentedly, “Lie in?” He proposes.

“I’d rather nothing else.”

[littlerainyghoul]

Aether trying to put a fussy little dew to bed...sounds like fun lol

Do you think you can write a fic about this?

yeah sure! of course!

I love writing regressed dew, and I think him being fussy fits his personality so well! Thank you for the request!

Without futher ado:

1am shenanigans

Summary: It’s 1am, and a tired Aether is trying to put the very energetic regressed fireghoul to bed.

words: 900

Pairings: Regressed Dewdrop, Caregiver Aether, also brief appearance of Cirrus

The fire ghoul spurled around the room, his body wriggling and gleaming with energy as he chased around the laser pointer Cirrus was playing with around the ghoul common room. He had the been chasing the laser for hours before, and the energy of the ghoul came to no end as he bounced around the room.

“Deww! Its time for some shut eye! It’s 1 am dear” Aether's voice rang out in the ghoul common room, laced with nothing but concern for the fire ghoul. He stepped in front of the energetic rascal, his body exuding a presence of gentle calmness.

"But....Aefey! I don't want to go to bed! I'm not tired" Dewdrop whine, disappointment lingering in his eyes, his nose scrunched in disgust at the idea of being put to bed.

“I know, little firefly, but don't you want to wake up and have the energy to play tomorrow?" Aether spoke, as he gestured to Cirrus to put away the laser pointer.

”Aether is right, you know, I think it's time for us to go to bed“ Cirrus spoke, her voice croaky from all the laughter she passed in the past couple of hours.

”Not tired! Cirrus! Please can we play some more?" Dewdrop shot his words, as he pounced in the air and crossed his arms.

“None can do, kid” Cirrus spoke as she yawned “I'm off to have my evening shower, see ya in the morning Aeth! Goodnight little one!“ she cooed the last part to Dewdrop.

”We need to calm you down, firefly" Aether whispered.

“Aeth, five more minutes? I really want to run around! It's so fun!"

"Nope, all the other ghouls went to bed. Now would you be a good boy for me? I'll tuck you in if you behave" Aether spoke, slight irritation lingering in his voice.

Dewdrop's lower lip jutted out ever so slightly, showcasing the classic sign of a pout. The smooth curve of his lips now held a hint of resistance, a silent protest against the unwelcome suggestion of sleep. Even his fiery aura seemed to flicker with a subdued intensity, mirroring the conflicted emotions etched across his expressive face.

“Please Dew?” Aether begged, his usual friendly and warm eyes tinted with exhaustion, and a hint of concern. "Why do you even want to stay up, anyway?"

"Not tired, Aethy" Dewdrop confessed.

Aether looked at Dewdrop, his eyes reflecting a mix of weariness and amusement. "Come on, firefly, bedtime is calling, and even the laser pointer needs its beauty sleep."

Dewdrop's eyes widened at the mention of the laser pointer, torn between the allure of play and the idea that Aether used his emotions like that.

Aether chuckled, "You know, if the laser pointer could talk, it would probably be saying, 'Enough, Dew, I need a break!'" He mimicked a high-pitched, imaginary voice, eliciting a giggle from Cirrus.

Dewdrop, caught off guard by the unexpected humour, let out a small laugh but still looked reluctant. Aether seized the opportunity to continue the banter. "Besides, if you stay up all night, you'll turn into a nocturnal ghoul, and I'm not sure the others are ready for that."

Cirrus, who turned back from entering her room, joined in, "Yeah, Dew, imagine waking up to find yourself surrounded by sleepy ghouls trying to get ready for the day while you're bouncing off the walls."

The thought seemed to amuse Dewdrop, and his resistance waned as he envisioned the comical scenario. "Okay, okay, I guess I don't want to be the only ghoul wide awake when everyone else is snoring," he conceded with a grin.

Aether seized the moment, "That's right, firebug" Now, let's make bedtime a grand adventure. I'll even tell you a story about a mischievous fire ghoul who learned the importance of a good night's sleep."

With a playful twinkle in his eye, Aether led Dewdrop towards his bedroom. It glowed with the warmth of red and gold hues, evoking the essence of dancing flames. Adorned with tapestries and artwork depicting swirling fire motifs, the room's focal point was a bed with crackling ember-patterned sheets and flame-carved headboard. In a cozy corner, a lava lamp added a mesmerizing touch, its molten wax mimicking the fluid movement of lava, casting a dynamic play of light.

Dewdrop climbed into the bed, as Aether threw some blankets on his body, as he tucked in the ghoul.

"Cosy, my love?" Aether cooed softly, as he tuned on the lavalamp.

“Bed time story, please?” Dewdrop asked

"Absolutely, my little Dewcifer" Aether replied with a tender smile, the warm glow of the lava lamp casting a soft radiance across the room.

As Dewdrop nestled into the crackling ember-patterned sheets, Aether began to weave a bedtime story, his voice a soothing melody that harmonized with the gentle flicker of the fiery-themed bedroom. The tale unfolded like the dance of flames, carrying Dewdrop into a world where fire ghouls embarked on enchanting adventures beneath the starlit canopy. The lavalamp's liquid glow echoed the story's rhythm, creating a tranquil ambiance that embraced them both in the comforting warmth of the fire-themed haven.

He softly carressed Dew's cheek, as Dew softly purred while the quintessential ghoul recounted his story. As Aether continued his tale, the bond between them deepened, and the room became a haven where the warmth of the story and the glow of the lava lamp melded into a soothing lullaby, cradling Dewdrop in the arms of sweet dreams.

[patheticrafeenjoyer]

do u guys remember how like over a year ago i said i was writing a scream au? well i never finished until like ten minutes about because it's halloween and its time to be spooky. it's a real loose interpretation of scream, but the sentiment is there. just an excuse to get rafe all covered in blood and doing something fucked up, really.

anyway, here she is in all her glory (and on ao3 if ur a real one):

It’s late on Thursday night when the phone rings, loudly enough in the relative quiet of the night that Campbell startles, jerking up from his half-asleep state on the couch, mind clouded with a dream. 

The phone rings again, brash, shrill, and fucking irritating. 

Why even still have this damn relic of the past? It’s a corded phone for fuck’s sake. Mom uses it to call Nana and her aunties because old people can’t figure out a cellphone for whatever reason, and because she says twirling the cord around her finger makes her feel like a kid again. 

It’s in the office and almost never rings; an outgoing-call-dominant phone to boot. Honestly, Campbell’s pretty sure Nana and Mom’s aunties wouldn’t call them even if they knew how to use their own phones. 

And yet, here it is, practically screaming in the darkness of the night.

Mom and Dad aren’t home; off on some retreat, ordered by the marriage counselor who's been trying to patch a leak in the boat the size of a cannonball. 

Campbell grumbles as he stands, meandering to the office. His path is lit only by the Netflix ‘Are you still watching?’ screen shining from the living room. 

The phone rings again, for a third time, and Campbell has half a mind to just rip the cord out of the wall, but then he half worries that maybe something’s happened to Nana, so he picks up the phone on the fourth ring.

“Clements’ residence,” he says into the bright red receiver. 

There’s muffling on the other line for a moment but no response.

“Hello?” He tries. Still just muffled sounds, but there’s a high, clear voice, distinctly female. His curiosity is piqued, and then immediately he worries that maybe Nana’s fallen and that’s why she’s calling.

“Nana? Nana is that you?”

“Do I sound like your nana?” Comes a woman’s voice, friendly and teasing. She sounds young, so definitely not Nana, and doesn’t have the vocal fry of decades worth of cigarettes, so definitely not any of Mom’s aunties either. The phone distorts her voice, just slightly, crackly and a bit muffled, but still young and cute.

Campbell chuckles, a strange, startled kind of laugh. “No, no, I don’t suppose you do.”

He’s wide awake now, perked up by this mysterious woman on the phone.

She laughs, a twinkling kind of sound, and Campbell can picture it in his head; her head tilted back as she paws fondly at his chest. Her face is obscured by the position, and Campbell finds himself wanting to see her, even in his imagination. Mystery Girl, who are you? 

He turns the charm up to ten like it’s nothing, “What can I do for you at,” his gaze flicks to the white numbers on his Apple Watch, “1:13 am on a Wednesday?” 

“Well, I was hoping you could help me with something,” she replies. “You seem capable. Strong, too, probably.” 

“Well aren’t you insightful. You can’t even see me,” Campbell teases, grinning into the receiver. 

Mystery Girl giggles that twinkling, bell-laugh again, “So I’ve been told. Am I wrong though?”

“No. No, I don’t suppose you are. What can I help you with, baby?” The pet name is a risk, but when she replies, he can hear the smile in her voice, so he knows it’s worth it.

“I was hoping you could answer a question for me.”

“Okay, shoot,” he tells her. 

Mystery Girl’s delight is evident over the phone. “Do you like scary movies?”

Campbell chuckles, “That’s your question? I was expecting a little more from you.”

“No, silly,” she giggles. “It’s just a preface to the question.”

It’s quiet for a moment. 

“Well? Do you like scary movies?”

Campbell thinks for a moment, pondering where this could possibly be leading, and trying to figure out why that sounds so familiar. 

Then it clicks. “Uh-huh,” he replies. 

“What’s your favourite scary movie?” The flirtation is evident in her voice. He plays along. After all, he was just watching that. He wonders how she knew, but there’s a sexy mystery woman flirting down the line at him, so there’s other, far more important things to focus on. 

“I don’t know,” he says back.

She hums, clearly pleased. “You have to have a favorite.” Mystery Girl seems perfectly fine to run through the entire movie line-by-line. He can’t say the same. She’s sexy, and sultry, and clearly flirting, but there’s about a million other things he’d like to hear from her.

Campbell derails things, “Scream.”

Mystery Girl giggles again. “You’re good.”

“I try,” he replies. “Now, not that I’m not enjoying this, but what’s your question?”

She just chuckles over the line.

“C’mon gorgeous, talk to me,” he croons.

“You can’t see me either, how do you know I’m gorgeous?” She asks.

Campbell smiles, she’s setting him up for a home run here. “I can just tell. Voice like yours, pretty little laugh, how could you not be?” 

She laughs again, breathy and happy, and Campbell joins her.

“Oh, yeah?” She whispers questioningly.

“Yeah. Definitely,” he whispers back. “Tell me what you look like.”

“Ah-ah,” she tuts. “Can’t do that.”

“Oh? And why is that?” He asks.

She hums again. “It’s not fun if I just tell you. Let’s make a game of it.” 

A game? Okay fine, Campbell can play along.

He hums in acknowledgement of her wishes. 

“Okay, you guess and I’ll tell you ‘right or wrong’,” Mystery Girl instructs. 

Campbell pauses for a moment, thinking. “Blonde.”

“Right.”

“Long hair.”

“Right.”

“Pretty,” he says slyly.

She scoffs down the line. “Doesn’t count, too subjective.” 

“Tease,” he says fondly. “Fine, shorter than 5’7”.”

“Right.”

He doesn’t know what else to say at this point. “Tan, right? You have to be, if you live here?” He pauses for a moment. “Do you live here?”

“And where is ‘here’ for you?” She asks back.

“North Carolina. Kildare Island,” he replies.

Mystery Girl hums at him. “Me too,” she says.

“Sick! Where do you go to school?” If she’s local that means he has a chance. 

She tsks. “That’s not how this works.”

Campbell takes it for the hint that it is, stranger danger and all that. He gets it. He’s had to sit through one of those seminars every year since kindergarten. 

There are a few seconds of suspended silence, just he and Mystery Girl breathing on either end of the phone. 

Then, he breaks it. “So, are you tan?”

“Yes,” she says back, a smile evident in her voice. “Okay my turn. I think you’re tan too. And tall and handsome, I bet.”

Oh fuck yeah. This is exactly where he was trying to take this. 

“Right,” he tells her. 

She giggles, like this news pleases her. Fucking perfect. 

Before he loses the nerve, before he stops to consider if this might spook her into hanging up, he adds on– “I bet you have big tits.”

He gets a genuine laugh in response, not a giggle or a breathy little chuckle like before, a true laugh. 

“I thought it was my turn?” She answers, and it's confirmation enough. 

Campbell pictures the girl on the other end of the phone; short and blonde and tan, with big boobs, sprawled on her bed in shorts and a thin little shirt, talking on the phone to him of all people. 

He doesn’t let her ask her questions though. “What are you wearing right now?”

“Nice try. Maybe if you’re good I’ll let you guess.” 

Good? Fuck yeah he can be good for this chick. All perfect manners and playing by her rules, absolutely, can do.

“Sorry,” he gives sheepishly, not feeling or even sounding that sorry at all.

She giggles again, pleased by him. Either not phased by his insincerity or not noticing it. Whatever, doesn’t matter.

After a moment, she sombers; “Okay, let me ask you now.”

“Hit me with it,” he replies, readying himself for something devastatingly hot, just from the tone of her voice.

“Are you home alone?” She says it so slyly, almost suggestive. 

He smirks, trying to figure out how he can get this girl here. Get her name, her number, something. “Uh-huh,” he replies flirtatiously.

“And tell me, Campbell,” she says, “is the spare key still under the rock out front?” There’s a smile in her voice, warm and sweet, but a chill runs down his spine.

“How did you know that?” He asks, no longer interested in flirting right now.

“Oh, calm down, I’m just joking, Campbell.” Mystery Girl reassures him. 

“I never told you my name,” he says, voice hardening.

“Didn’t you?” She asks innocently.

He scoffs. “No.” 

“Hmm, Campbell Clements, of 212 Princess Street, you should really be more careful giving out your information. Especially when you’re home alone.” She sounds dispassionate, as if she hasn’t just doxxed him over the phone. 

It’s dark in the office, dark in the whole house, really, but the house has giant, towering windows everywhere, and Mom thinks curtains are tacky, so moonlight. It leaves him completely visible to anyone looking in.

Out of the corner of his eye, Campbell swears a shadow drifts by, but by the time he turns to investigate, it’s gone. 

“How the fuck did you know that?” He demands.

“Don’t worry about it. I get the feeling you have more pressing matters to attend to,” she tells him. 

She has to be a stalker. Probably one of Kassidy’s psycho friends. But he doesn’t recognize her voice, though the crappy old phone would make it impossible to identify even if he tried. Campbell knows deep down that this is real, not just some prank. Someone is in his house right now.

Something rustles in the hall outside the office. His eyes are glued to the doorway. “Get out of my fucking house, I’m calling the cops.”

“Good luck with that, Campbell,” she coos into the phone, and then the line goes dead. 

He blinks at it for a second before immediately reaching down to dial 9-1-1.

He’s just about to hit the first ‘1’ when a dark figure charges at him, fast and unbelievably quiet despite the size.

Campbell doesn’t even have a second to raise his hands into fists before he’s grabbed and thrown bodily onto the floor.

He thrashes once he’s there, self-preservation instincts kicking in, thrusting his legs out hard.

He makes contact once, but the angle isn’t right and he can tell it wasn’t that effective.

His assailant grunts quietly, definitely a man, but doesn’t let that knock him off balance. 

The guy leans back and kicks Campbell once in the stomach, and when he tries to flail his legs out to make contact again, the assailant stomps his foot on the side of Campbell’s knee, hard.

Something cracks and he lets out the kind of pained noise a deer makes when it’s just been shot, loud and hurting, almost feral with the pain of it.

“Fuck, man! Stop! Stop!” He pleads, throwing his hands in front of his face. 

The guy kicks his stomach again, then delivers a swift punch to his face, sending blood gushing from his nose. 

“Please! Stop! I have money! I know the code to the safe! I’ll give you whatever you want! Just stop!” He screams.

Campbell tries everything, he begs, he pleads, he threatens, he promises not to tell the cops, but the guy doesn’t stop.

His fists reign down over and over, each one striking with a pinpointed kind of accuracy. 

After the third blow to his temple in a row, Campbell stops fighting; he curls his body in on itself and wishes that this’ll stop, that the guy will get bored, that he’ll leave Campbell with a broken knee and severely bruised face.

It doesn’t happen.

There’s a crunch as the guy stands up and steps on Campbell’s hand, sending his fingers spasming before going limp. He can’t move them anymore.

Then, for a blessed second, it stops. The guy takes a few eerily quiet steps away, and Campbell thanks God. This is it. 

He cracks an eye open, trying to find the shape of the man who’s just beaten him bloody, trying to catalog any distinctive features. He’s clad all in black, with a dark hat and bandana covering his face. 

In the dimness, he sees moonlight flash against the red phone as the guy yanks the cord from the wall. He dismantles it quickly, cutting the cord with a sharp knife he pulls from his pocket.

Campbell realsies what’s happening a second too late. He tries to turn and crawl away, but the guy is walking back to him, pace slow and measured, like he’s out on a late-night stroll and not about to tie Campbell up in his own home.

He’s scrambling backwards clumsily, “Please, man, no. You don’t have to do this. Please don’t, please don’t, please–” 

He screams as the guy grabs his leg –the one he stomped on and definitely broke– and hauls him back in. 

The guy drags him until they reach the desk chair, then prods roughly at him until he complies and sits in the chair. 

Campbell keeps up a steady stream of pleas as the guy ties his hands behind his back, then drops down to tie his ankles to the legs of the chair, but it falls on deaf –or uncaring– ears. 

Once he’s secured tight enough that movement is impossible, everything catches up to him.

Campbell cries, big sobbing tears as the reality of the situation hits him.

“Please, man,” he sobs, “Please, what did I ever do to you? Just stop, please.”

The guy circles to face him, and Campbell gets a glimpse of cold, dispassionate eyes. 

He’s never thought about what a killer’s eyes look like, but staring at this guy, Campbell knows. 

The knife comes back into view, glinting threateningly in the moonlight. It’s there and gone in a flash, and Campbell barely has a second to wonder where it’s gone when his thigh lights up in pain.

He screams himself hoarse as the guy digs the knife in and twists, and he doesn’t stop screaming when the guy pulls the knife back out. The burn is worse on the way out.

Campbell blacks out when the knife stabs through his other thigh, head lolling to the side as the pain drags him into unconsciousness. 

He wakes up what must be only seconds later to the guy slapping his face, as if he’s just passed out at a party. 

For the next little while, the guy just stares at him, inquisitive and calculating as Campbell hyperventilates.  

His whole body is throbbing, nerves screaming in pain, so much that it’s all starting to blur together. Campbell’s vision is blackening around the edges, unable to keep anything properly in focus. 

When he feels the coldness of metal at his throat, his heartbeat kicks up and what little energy he has left redoubles as he squirms weakly and tries to just get away. Trapped like a caught animal with some sick, sadistic predator toying with him for the fun of it. In what Campbell is sure are his last moments, he feels a pang of sympathy for the rabbits that’d get pinned down by the traps out in the bush, traps set by other hunters that he’d take advantage of just because. 

He feels the knife dig in, the hot rush of blood down the front of his body, and then he doesn’t feel anything at all. 

–

Rafe does his part as he’s supposed to, instincts singing from the scent of blood and metal in the air. He scuffs out shoe prints made from tracked blood so the mark is smeared, tries to get it done quick so he can take a few moments to bask in the success of it all.

Campbell Clements is still tied to the chair, blood pulsing sluggishly out of the gaping smile of his slit neck. The guy was easy, almost too easy; he went down like nothing, put up a pitiful fight. 

Usually, Rafe’s got a mark or two that’ll bruise, or a cut made from an errant, flailing hand that stings for a few days, but Campbell’s kick only knocked the wind out of him for a second. It’s kind of embarrassing, really, for the kid. To go out so weakly. 

Rafe likes when they struggle. Likes getting messy with it, even though it’s more work to clean up. He likes when they shriek and scream and try to get away, even though they never do. 

This guy wasn’t great, to be honest. That’s what he gets for drawing the short straw in the choosing. 

But whatever. In the end he died just like the rest of him. His blood covers Rafe’s body, and he thinks, for a few seconds, about crossing himself with it. Ultimately he doesn’t, but only because his first set of gloves has already been peeled off and tucked into his jacket pocket. The other pair is clean and he’s not supposed to get anything on them. Boss’ orders, he thinks with a snort.

There’s a good amount of blood on the floor, and even some on the walls from where he got haphazard with his knife-swings. The furniture is overturned and every book or paper that was on the big desk is strewn about the room like confetti after a party. And in the middle of it all, Campbell Clements sits, lifeless and messy, a perfect centerpiece to it all. 

Rafe wipes his knife off on the nearest overstuffed, overturned piece of furniture and stows it back in the sheath that’s hidden away under his hoodie. He takes one last look at his job well done before retracing his steps back to the unlocked mudroom door. Locking the door behind him, he replaces the key under the hollow rock and edges to the side of the lawn with the most shadows. 

Thankfully, the Clements’ rely on their status and their residence in Figure 8 for protection, so there’s no cameras to worry about. Shit, there’s not even motion lights. They’re stupid and cocky and too proud to imagine anything bad happening to them here. 

That’ll be a nice surprise when Campbell’s parents come home, he thinks. A blood-drenched office and a dead, stinking, son. Rafe grins behind his bandana. 

It’s a quick trek across the yard, through a dense patch of trees that allow him to avoid taking the streets to get back to the meet-up.

Parked a couple side streets away is the unassuming beater car. Its blacked out windows are the only thing noticeable about it, but other than that it looks like any other junk car from the Cut. Like maybe a housekeeper was working late; parked just outside the glow of the streetlight, it’s perfectly hidden in plain sight.

For all that the car’s a shitbox, the doors don’t make a peep when they’re opened, and the engine is thankfully pretty quiet when it starts up.

Rafe doesn’t take the bandana off until the door shuts behind him, but the second he’s behind dark glass, he tugs it off, breathing unobscured for the first time in a couple hours. 

He knocks his head back into the headrest with a sigh, finally slanting a glance to the other set of eyes watching him expectantly. 

She’s impatient, his sister. Always was, always wanted her demands met instantly. Always got her demands met instantly. A brat, through and through. “Well?” Sarah asks pointedly. 

He’s probably most of the reason she is how she is; Rafe gives in instantly. “Went down easy. Screamed like a bitch. You shoulda heard it.” 

Rafe retrieves the bloody gloves from his pocket, a nice leather pair, gifted to him by Dad for his eighteenth, and wraps them in the bandana. Then, he takes off the second set –a durable latex pair– and wraps those up, too. The rest of him is covered in blood as well, but that’s a problem for later, for when him and Sarah get back to the rickety shack on the property they rent on the far side of the island –paid for in cash to someone who needs the money too much to care what they’re doing out there, and with a slightly sturdier, squat, cement building that serves as the garage. 

He shoves the bundle of fabric in the deep pockets of the dark work jacket he wears. It's black, like the pants, the boots, the hoodie, and everything else. Perfectly nondescript to creep around in the shadows.

“I wish,” Sarah laments. She’s only half serious. She likes the psychological torment that comes from playing with her food. Or, rather, playing with Rafe’s food, to be more precise. She always complains about the mess afterward when she does it, about being sticky and smelly, not quite as comfortable shrouded in viscera as he is. “He was a bitch over the phone, too,” she grins. “‘How did you know that?’ ‘Get out of my house!’” 

He smirks back at her mockery of Campbell, and they share a moment of pleased we did it, before it’s time to go. 

“My turn next time,” Sarah tells him, shifting the car into drive. She goes the back way out, taking as many disorienting and pointless turns as she can, just in case. Rafe chuckles quietly to himself at her antics, always trying to be three steps ahead, sometimes too smart for her own good. 

When it's Sarah’s turn, Rafe sticks around a lot closer. Just in case. Usually he’ll call from whatever burner phone they purchased for the occasion while remaining just in hearing range of what’s going on inside. Depending on who it is, sometimes he just goes straight in with her anyway. 

She’s shorter than he is, smaller, and though he’d never say it to her face, weaker. Sarah is his baby sister after all. Once, before they figured out the ins and outs of their process, Sarah came back with a ring of bruises around her wrists and a fat lip. There wasn’t anything either of them could do to prevent Rafe from going in and brutalizing the body of the guy who hurt her like that, even though he was already doing the death rattle by the time Rafe got in there. 

Sometimes it’s more fun that way, anyway, being close enough to hear it all, knowing that she’s in there taking after him, making him proud. 

“Whatever you want, kid,” he tells her, collapsing back into the leather seat, mindless of the blood because it’ll just wipe away when they clean up later. 

She reaches over and smacks him in the chest, hard. “Don’t call me that,” she says with a wrinkled nose. 

He snickers at her. Predictably, she sneers back. 

“Hey,” he says in the silence that falls between them, “When’re his parents supposed to be back?”

“Late tomorrow night, I think. During math the other day he said their flight gets in around ten.” she replies matter-of-factly. 

Rafe nods back, satisfied. “Welcome home Mr. and Mrs. Clements,” he snarks. It makes her laugh, which only adds to the overall feeling of success from tonight. 

Together they drive off into the pitch black night, leaving behind nothing except a blood-stained room and the corpse of some boy whose parents were stupid enough to leave him home alone. 

–

Two mornings later, Rafe and Sarah eat their breakfast on the couch since Dad isn’t home to chastise them for it. Twin bowls of cereal balanced on their laps, they feign disinterest in whatever cartoon’s now playing on the channel Wheezie was watching last night and channel surf until they hit Channel 2 for the morning news right at the clock turns to seven. 

The newscaster shares the breaking story with a somber face and a voice far too obnoxious to be hearing this early. “Tragedy struck the Outer Banks last night as local Kildare teen Campbell Clements was found dead in his home when his parents returned from their twentieth anniversary trip. This is the latest in a growing number of murders with strikingly similar circumstances that have been terrorizing the island over the last year. Police are asking for anyone with any information to come forward and make a report to the Kildare Sheriff’s Office immediately. Our hearts here at Channel 2 go out to the Clements family, and to all who knew Campbell, in the wake of this unimaginable tragedy. Now, over to Rachelle Green who’s reporting to us live from the Kildare County Sheriff’s Office, where Sheriff Susan Peterkin will be addressing the press shortly. Rachelle?” 

The footage changes from the sickeningly-blonde host at her news desk with a photo of the Clements family all dressed in white for the Country Club labor day party to another equally as blonde reporter in front of the Sheriff’s office where hoards of people are gathered in front of a hastily thrown up podium. 

Rose makes a disapproving noise into her mimosa, chasing her bottle of wine from last night with some hair of the dog that’s definitely more champagne than orange juice. “Absolutely tragic. This place is going to shit. And now these sickos are making their way through Figure 8.” She turns to look at them; almost accusatory, she points her finger, “You two better be careful. And Wheezie, too. Where is she? Wheezie!” Rose saunters out of the room shouting for their little sister who’s probably already left for school by now. 

Rafe’s eyes slide over to Sarah, lightning quick, just catching the glint in her eye, knowing and smug under the faux-heartbroken expression she’s wearing. He has to fight the twitching of his lips. They don’t talk about their shared hobby here, not ever. 

“Totally,” Rafe says absentmindedly to Rose’s long-gone retreating back. She doesn’t hear him. He slouches back on the couch until he’s shoulder-to-shoulder with Sarah, nudging her arm knowingly as Sheriff Peterkin comes out to the podium and the rest of their tale of terror is recounted on live television.

[jessiquinn]

I want to live (reader x The Question AKA Vic sage)

This one-shot was a freaking mess, I had to fix it. I wrote it when I was 14 and shit reading it right now it needs major fixing! god damn...

I'm proud of the edit I hope you like it as I did 🖤

it’s The question x villain exhero reader

2018-5-14

Warnings:

1-Depression talk 2-bad words

3-bad writing 4-violence

Enjoy ✨

----------------------------------

Being in the justice league is stressful, my mental health has never gotten this bad before... it’s really bad, looking at the positive side, everyone likes me here, being one of the loved heroes in the league was great but of course, my inner demons told me otherwise...

Even though a lot of people “love” me, still can’t help to doubt myself every day, the pressure they have on me is high... they don’t even realize it, one mistake and everything will fall...

if people start to hate me I don’t know what I would do anymore, I’ll simply lose it... you might say this is a bit dramatic but insecurities are real... living out of the love of people was hard, of course, no one knew of those thoughts, and being an actor has its good side.

The best thing in the justice league Watch Tower was hanging out with my “friends”, especially The Question AKA Vic sage, he is one of the most innovative heroes I know, especially since Batman had assigned him to the Lex Luthor and Superman investigation, I CAN’T be on his bad side, he’ll just expose me in seconds.

of course, everything was great till this day...

looking around...everything looks blurry.. where the hell am I! ugh my head...

“Well, well, well... finally awake!” the mysterious figure said while looking into my eyes like he was peaking inside my soul... hasn’t he learned about personal space before?

“What is wrong with you? untie me!” trying to get out of the chains. finally, my eyes cleared up... I seem to be in a basement or something, Who the hell is this?

“tsk-tsk not yet sweetie, we need to talk” his smirk turns serious.

“What the hell!” struggling to get out, “shhh- stop being annoying and listen to me!”, “what! get it over with” at this point, I started getting angry.

finally leaving my face and turning around, “well, I need a favor from you... not a favor it’s more of a “you have no choice situation?” do you understand what I’m saying?” turning back again with a creepy expression on.

“what do you mean by I don’t have a choice? You do realize I can kill you on the spot right?”, his eyes widened in surprise “poor thing, did you forget you’re from the justice league? it’s not allowed to kill there... didn’t batman teach you this? dear old batman wouldn’t be proud of this...” his smirk rises again while watching your face sour, finally bursting out of laughter

“What are you laug-” cutting me off, “ Your face expressions dear! trying to act like the tough guy meanwhile we both know how weak you are but unlike you I CAN Kill,” his smirk grows widely

“if I’M SO WEAK IN YOUR EYES THEN WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME TO DO YOUR DIRTY WORK!”

“Well dear, the thing is.. no one would expect that from you, everyone thinks you’re... innocent, the nice loveable hero that would never do such a thing... don’t you think?”

“I...I don’t understand and I don’t CARE, I would Never help you anyway!” her/his eyes gleamed with hopelessness, you know what he said was true...

grabs your arm harshly, “don’t make me give you a taste of how failure feels like! listen to me I’m giving you a chance!”, “I don’t care I would never cross them!” screamed at his face. a weird sensation starts to grow on my arm, “dear Y/n I’m giving you a chance” spitting on his face in response.

-wiping his face- disappointment was written on his face, “ok how about we try this”

The weird sensation got worse, trying not to show any signs of pain or weakness but the pain is getting worse by the second, it was literally BURNING my arm

“See? this is what will happen if you DON’T FUCKING SHUT THE HELL UP AND LISTEN TO WHAT I’M SAYING” his grab tightens making it worse.

“ok STO-” he stopped, barely breathing from the pain in your arm. “you think I don’t know what you’re thinking? I know everything about you, even your darkest secrets”

A telepath

“There’s no escape, submit to me” his eyes showed emptiness, literally nothing.

“I... don’t kn-”, “unlike those heroes I actually understand your pain, why even bother protecting them”, for the first time today you are silent “so Are you willing to listen now?”

This is too much.

his smirk rises again, “it’s simple really, I want you to get me That delicious, AMazing info that they keep in the control room!” his arms on the chair tighten while he talks passionately.

“I don’t understand” confusion written on your face, “what don’t you understand? get that info and give it to me”, “I can’t do that, if I do my life is ruined, everything I worked for!”. shutting you up “do you think I care? honestly, I don’t care what happens to you, all I care about is that info”

“Why should I do it tho? you want to kill me just get it over with!” determination gleams from you

“oh dear haven’t you learned anything? you don’t have a choice, I don’t kill... I torture. let’s say you’ll forever be haunted by your biggest fears... every day...every second... till the day you leave this universe” grabs your arm, “see this scar? it’ll be the guilt, fear, and sadness that’s trapped inside of you” walks away “even if I die, you’ll still be stuck with the curse”

“so I’ll lose either way...” is this how my life will end? at this point fear and loneliness consumed you,

“Unfortunately this is life right? it’s not always fair, well time is UP what you decide is your choice, I’ll be waiting” knocking you back to sleep

--

waking up, realization immediately hits you, MY ARM, rising my sleeve with the hope that it was just a Nightmare...

it’s still there..

you can feel a panic attack is about to begin, tears filling your eyes, Denial, nausea hitting you like a truck... what am I supposed to do? sell my soul for justice or help him...

My morals fighting inside my head, and everything hurts... I don’t know anymore. should I just surrender myself? if I do this... there’s a big chance that I’ll get caught, what will happen to me after?

save me or the world?

finally dragging myself out of my room, one of my special abilities is to block any telepaths from reading my mind... but there’s a certain person which doesn’t need any mind powers to read anyone out, so I need to avoid him with all of my life..

One side of me wishes someone will just read me out and put me in prison already and my other side just wants to be happy... I want to live

this is going to take time, Shit! I can see Vic there talking to someone I don’t give a shit about, I need to leave before he noti- “hey, Y/n wait a second” he starts walking to you

I can’t just run, he will know there’s something. I need to act normal, turning to face him and giving him your usual smile.

“I was just going to my office ” he explained “let’s go, I need to continue my work” he starts walking, what the hell do I say, decided to just follow him.

“hmm.. is there something bothering you?” he asked, OF COURSE, “nah I’m just hungry” you can’t read his face much... ugh (hehe bad joke right here).

finally arriving at his office, why am I scared of him... “you’re not acting like yourself, did something happen?” he said with a caring but sarcastic tone, “no there’s nothing, I’m sleepy and shit..”

“hmm... hungry and sleepy? oh that makes sense, I didn’t see you yesterday.. where were you?” focused on his computer

“I was in my room, I didn’t feel like socializing yesterday”

“that’s kind of weird.. considering you LOVE talking to everyone” trying to make a joke,

“Everyone has bad days sometimes”, catching his full attention, his blank face is fully on you now, you can feel his faceless face searching you up and down.

this is terrifying, maybe acting like I couldn’t hear him was a better option than going with him.. “are you better today?”, “I’m fine” giving him your usual smile... he got up from his chair and walked closer to you “ok.. so what about your arm... you didn’t go to any mission for a while now...” taking your arm in his hand, taking a closer look at the scar

grasping your arm from him, “don’t worry haha... it’s just an old scar I got from a long time ago” slowly hiding your arm from him,

now he knows there’s something wrong for sure, “I need to go continue my work ok?” he grabbed your wrist again... getting embarrassed “sorry, of course” he says

walking to your room,

I don’t have access inside that room any way I need to find a way...

most people would judge me but would you save yourself or others? who knows what that villain would do with that info anyway? maybe he’s going to blackmail them or something... who cares about strangers.. I don’t deserve this... I was supposed to be having a nice week... but instead everything went upside down.

call me selfish.. Idc

collecting info wasn’t hard or easy but I’ve been here for a long time to know everyone has their personal routine here.

watching them for a while did the job.

Blind trust.. huh

a week later

This is it, today is the day

11 pm, most of them went to sleep already, the problem is there are guards everywhere.

sneaking through the building as quietly and stealthily as possible, this is the day I lost myself, my dignity, my life.. this is it! I must succeed.

There’s no room for failure.

Arriving in time, the guard's patrol this time is on the other side of the hallway, This is my chance.

typing the password, finding the password was the hardest part but thankfully for batman and his blind trust, I found it.

haha it opened. going inside and plugging the hard drive into the master computer, you practiced all of this in your head for a while now.

Loading 1%

This is going to be the longest 10 minutes of my life

Fear eating you up, at any second I might get caught

50%

God, please be faster

“I knew it”

turning at the sound, Fuck it’s him...

60%

“calm down, it’s not too late to stop what you’re doing” Vic Aka The question said.

65%

“You need to leave”

“as cringy as saying this, but this isn’t you, just stop” walking closer “before it’s too late” taking slow steps toward you.

70%

“I watched you all week, honestly I didn’t think you’d do this for real”

pulling out your gun and pointing it at him “don’t get any closer” threatening him, his serious aura freaking you out, this is too much.

everything I’ve built has been ruined in a week

80%

come on! be faster!!

“Y/n I don’t know what happened but this is not the answer” walking slowly toward you

“I said stop!” tights the grip on the gun, “we both know if you pull the trigger everyone would come here and it will become a bigger problem than it is”

“You don’t know shit! you think you know everything!”, “then tell me... you can trust me Y/N”

95%

“I see,” while you took a quick peek at the screen he ran at you at full speed and knocked the gun out of your hands

getting into a fighting stance “I warned you, “ he attacked you but hesitation weakening his hit and giving you a chance to strike back.

the hit wasn’t as clever as you thought, pining you on the floor “stop this shit!” kicking him off of you

100%

both of you looked at the hard drive, running to take it, he took it first.

finally, you had enough, charging an attack right into his stomach. he didn’t expect that one... making him fall.

snatching the hard drive from him and rushing outside the room, searching for a quick escape

I need an escape RIGHT NOW

The question catches up to you “This is enough!” giving you another chance, looking at the time, perfect the guards shouldn’t be near this exit!

“I surely underestimated you Y/N, but what reason do you have for this?!” he said with frustration and disappointment

paying no mind to what he was saying, rushing to the exit, it was a window from the second floor, I don’t have any other choice. falling into the bushes, it hurts a lot but there’s no time for this, my healing factor will have to deal with it, meanwhile, his won’t.

racing to your car, to somehow find him there...

“You think you can get rid of me that easily? I don’t know what reason you have for this but this is going to kill thousands of people and ruin YOUR life!” he’s waiting for an answer but you decided to say nothing “I see, I’m not letting you go without a FIGHT” being the martial artist he is, this wasn’t going to be an easy fight.

adrenaline fueling, throwing the first punch, “weak hit” catching your arm and throwing you on the floor easily. “you might have forgotten but I’m a master at hand-to-hand combat” standing in a confident stance

panic setting in, getting back up and kicking him, “cheap” he said after grabbing your leg and throwing you at the wall.

usually, you are good at fighting but right now it’s impossible to focus, especially since you’re fighting your only friend.

pulling your other gun out, not giving you any more chances, pining you down, and taking the hard drive from you, “if you dare to even think about kicking me again! I’ll activate the emergency alarm immediately” he threatened, I never saw that side of him before...

I’m dead, looking at the hard drive, he smashes it next to your head.

“I want to know why?!” getting closer “what made you do this!”

his stomach is open I ca- “I swear to fucking god if you even consider pushing me!” he knew before you even tried.

silence “You know what! come with me!” grabbing you roughly, literally dragging you at this point.

pushing you into his office, locking the door shut, and walking towards you.

can’t help but feel a little intimidated “now you’re cornered, Speak!” even without a face you can tell he’s angry

attacking him once more, he didn’t expect this one I guess.. kicking you back in response, “You’re getting on my nerves” ok that hurt.

“why are you giving me a chance? that’s the real question!”

“I know you and you need a strong reason for this,” he said calmly

silence

-sigh- walks away “I won’t tell on you, I won’t hesitate if you repeat it again” unlocking the door for you, “once you feel ready to talk you know where to find me.

heading to your room, locking the door “how dumb is he...”

seems like he has a weak spot for you...

staying in your room for the rest of the night, unsure what to do, to grieve or fight back and try again.

I almost don’t feel bad for what I did, that asshole! why does he need to be nice? since when does he mix feelings with work?!

The burn... a scar that will haunt me forever

washing my face, I need to calm my nerves down.

I want to live even though my destiny is clear.

looking at your reflection, dark eye bags cover your face. a week ago my skin was flawless.

Fuck him! no one messes with my skin. I worked hard for it... who am I kidding. I’m losing it.. I need to find a way

washing your face once again, looking at yourself but something seems different. the mirror is changing... shit! I’m really losing my mind.

The mirror shows a smirking figure.

Fuck...

skip to the basement

“tsk-tsk seems like you failed, on top of that your dear friend knows you messed up too” he starts clapping “bravo, bravo... you can’t even do one thing right!” he finally shows his true anger

you couldn’t say anything, what can I say anyway?

“what am I going to do with you Y/n huh?” looking over his torture tools, this is going to be a long night...

“how about we try this!” he took a small knife “let’s carve more scars, you seem to love them” his smirk slowly rise

it was a long night indeed,

“ummmm I think I’m done now... now let’s think about what I want again”

he talks to you like nothing happened a minute ago, meanwhile, blood covered you everywhere.

trying your best to focus, but the blood loss doesn’t help

he sighed “I choose to forgive you, you would say why? well the thing is.... you seem to be dead already, how about we try to revive you a little” he snaps his finger, lots of the cuts on you heal, faster than your body can do.

“change of plans! I don’t want that info anymore!” searching for a reaction or expression on your dead face.

“hmm, you seem to give up easily” walking in circles “AHA I have an idea!” Grabs your chair harshly.

“What was his name... hmmm OH OH! it’s THE QUESTION! what a cool name”

finally catching your attention. “finally! YOU are ALIVE! hahaha”

staying silent to not give him the satisfaction he wanted.

“I want you to kill him,” he said with a blank expression, “he ruined the mission so kill him! this is a perfect revenge”

unbelievable

he didn’t even wait for your answer he just knocked you back to sleep.

--------

I can finally say I'm proud of this, I spent MONTHS on this... believe it or not... to end it with a cliffhanger -sigh- hopefully someday I'll write a second part or maybe just leave it as it is

please if you like it tell me <3 thank you for reading.

reblog  🌼 🖤

The question VIC sage from justice league unlimited

[heartstopper-writes]

Main: @goldenretriever-nicknelson

Note: um so hi! I’ve never wrote for heartstopper before but I can’t seem to get it or Nick and Charlie out of my head so I thought I’d give it a go! Please be gentle with me I haven’t wrote anything in so long. I’m sorry if it’s terrible haha.

Word count: 1.5k

Pairing: Nick and Charlie

(also ft Tao, Elle, Tara, Darcy, Imogen, Tori and Issac)

Summary: Nick and Charlie with their first child in the future, that’s all. Fluff ensues. Imogen is their surrogate bc why not.

••••••••••••

“Nick, we are not naming our child after a marvel character!”

“What? Why not?”

The famous Nelson puppy dog eyes stared at Charlie who sighed with an amused smile. Nick’s face inched closer to his husbands, his head flopping onto Charlie’s shoulder.

“Because,” Charlie sighed, running his fingers through Nick’s hair and kissing his head. “I don’t want to name our child Stark. That’s not fair to anyone.”

Nick laughed, the smile lingering on his lips as he looked at Charlie scroll through yet another baby name website.

Our child.

It was surreal to Nick that he was going to be a father. Even after 8 and a half months of expecting it.

Last year after babysitting Tara and Darcy’s 1 year old, Charlie and Nick had mutually fallen in love with the idea of children of their own, many pictures of the other holding the baby and playing with him saved on their phone.

They had decided to go through the surrogacy route, wanting to be a part of every step of the process but it turned out a lot harder than they had expected. Every person that came along didn’t seem quite right and there was one woman who was even passively aggressively homophobic. Needless to say she was told where to go.

“What if I did it? What if I was yours and Charlie’s surrogate?”

Nick looked up at one of his long time friends from school, sitting across from him in the coffee shop where he had been going on about his problems. A smile lifted onto his lips before promptly falling.

“Imogen that’s- it’s a big ask to take on. Are you sure you’d be okay with it?”

Imogen took a sip of her frappe and smiled widely, coming to sit next to Nick on the booth seat.

“Nicolas! Of course I would! I would be honored. I am an ally after all.” She gave a wink before Nick wrapped her up in a tight hug, a laugh mixed with amusement and relief escaping him.

“I’ll have to talk to Char but thank you! You’re amazing!”

Nick felt his eyes well up with tears out of pure happiness, this could finally be it.

And it was.

Charlie was fully on board, thanking Imogen with a bouquet of flowers as Nick triple checked she was definitely okay with it.

She nodded and so their journey began.

Sometimes Charlie and Nick felt guilty because pregnancy had taken its toll on Imogen and most people around her but she assured them she was fine and that it was all going to be worth it.

Imogen had never been more right.

Nick woke up to his phone ringing at 2 o’clock in the morning. He knew the sound was different to his alarm but he attempted to press snooze anyway. He must have pressed the green button because a small, panicked voice came out of the speaker.

“Nick?!”

“Mhm?” Nick mumbled, still half asleep and jealous of the way his husband was still snoring on his chest.

“It’s happening.”

“Wha-?” His brain quickly caught on to what was happening and realized it was Imogen on the phone. “You mean-?!”

“Yes you idiot! The baby’s coming!” Imogen’s shouting was followed by a large groan of pain.

“We’re on our way!”

Nick shook Charlie awake, the panic and excitement starting to set in. “Char!”

“5 more minutes.” Charlie mumbled, burying his head into Nick who insisted on getting up which he never usually did. “Wha’s happening?”

“We’re gonna be dads!” Nick untangled himself as he got up and started putting his clothes on hurriedly.

Charlie’s heart pounded as he realized what was going on. He sprung out of bed and started getting dressed, in an even more panicked state than Nick was.

Before they got in the car Nick wrapped his arms around a stressed Charlie and kissed his cheek. They both instantly felt more calm. “Char, it’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna meet our baby today.”

Nick’s smile and touch calmed Charlie’s nervous rambles, taking a moment to breathe and cherish his husband before getting in the car and driving to the hospital where they had arranged to meet Imogen.

The next few hours passed by in a blur of nurses, doctors, screaming and Charlie nervously pacing and rambling. Nick however felt strangely calm like this is what he had been waiting for all of his life. Similar to how he had felt on their wedding day.

They were in there whilst Imogen gave birth, she almost ended up knocking Charlie out on accident and squeezed Nick’s hand so hard that he was sure his wedding ring had somehow pierced through his finger.

And then there she was. Their perfect little baby, crying at the top of her lungs and being wrapped in a small blanket once she was all clean. Imogen flopped back onto the hospital bed and sighed, a tired smile on her face as the doctor handed the baby to Charlie.

“Oh,” Charlie almost looked shocked that he was the first one to hold her but as soon as his eyes saw her there was nothing but pure love and adoration. “Hi.”

Nick wrapped his arms around Charlie and looked down at his daughter. His heart soared as he saw her, tiny and perfect.

“Hi.”

They couldn’t take their eyes off of her or each other. Their perfect little family. Nick wiped away Charlie’s tears, letting his own fall down his cheeks onto Charlie’s shoulder before he was passed their daughter by his husband.

“I think someone wants to say hi to her dada.” And at that moment she opened her eyes, staring straight at Nick who gasped at the sight of her.

“You’re beautiful. I think she’s going to have your hair.” Nick smiled, laughing with his husband as Charlie shook his head.

Even though they had mixed their sperm together so neither could be sure who was the biological father, Nick hoped it was Charlie.

“You’re just saying that because you like my hair.”

Nick laughed and nodded, gently placing a kiss on the tiny baby’s forehead. “I love her already.”

Charlie stroked her cheek with his finger and nodded in agreement. “Me too. I love our family.”

Nick was the first to fall asleep with the baby in his arms on the hospital armchair as Charlie took a quick picture on his phone. He admired his husband and his daughter, thinking of how amazing his life was now and never wanting this moment or feeling to fade away.

He kissed Nick’s head before hearing a tiny knock on the door. Tao peeked in quietly with a large assortment of balloons and behind him Charlie could see Elle, Issac and Tori trying to edge their way in to have a look at the new arrival.

“Can we come in?”

Charlie nodded with a finger against his lips, urging them to be as quiet as they can. Tao nodded and tiptoed his way in before bumping loudly into one of the chairs, waking Nick and the baby up.

Elle smacked Tao on the arm and apologised to Charlie and Nick before coming closer to get a look at the baby.

“Oh my gosh! She’s gorgeous!”

Nick smiled sleepily, greeting the rest of his friends as he gently rocked the baby in his arms.

No matter what he tried she wouldn’t calm down, the chatter in the room of visitors talking to Imogen and the new parents didn’t help. Elle offered to take her and Nick nodded, smiling gratefully.

In an instant the baby had calmed down in Elle’s arms. Nick looked at her bewildered.

“Okay you have to teach me how to do that.”

Elle laughed and smiled, patting Nick on the shoulder before going to show her expert baby skills to Tao.

“So has this little one got a name?” Issac asked after having his turn of holding the baby in his arms. She was now with Charlie who was attempting to feed her with Nick at his side. They shared a look of agreement and smiled.

“Alice Tori Nelson-Spring.”

Tori looked up from her coffee she had grabbed from the cafe and stared at her brother and husband. They both smiled at her, letting her know that it was indeed what she was thinking.

“You’ve always been there for me, Tori. I wanted Alice to know that her auntie would always be there for her too and without you I don’t know if I’d be here.” Charlie cleared his throat as his eyes welled up with tears before Tori could cross the room and hug him, something she rarely did to anyone besides Charlie.

She nodded in thank you and smiled to both of them before everyone else cooed at the sweet moment.

“Oh shut it.” Tori turned and glared at the others in the room but the pink on her cheeks and emotion in her eyes let them know she wasn’t all that serious.

“And of course her amazing aunts and uncles.” Nick smiled to the rest of the group who all smiled back and piled in for a group hug, careful of Alice in between them. Even Tori joined in.

It would be a busy time what with visitors including Tara and Darcy and grandparents to meet so Nick and Charlie cherished this moment with their friends who had been with them through it all.

They smiled at each other after the hug ended and shared a kiss, surrounded by the rest of their perfect family.

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you liked it and would like more of my writing!

[yourebasicbecause]

summer 4 am thoughts

why am i still wide awake. luckily i have a friend in amsterdam who can talk to me and is encouraging me to not cut my hair rn and wait for a day but why wait folks?? i want to be BALD again <3 hmm i wonder when were all the times i cut my hair. and i mean CUT --- GONEEE

as a baby out the womb

5th grade

8th grade

10th grade

senior year

wowww its been far too long. hopefully everyones agreeing w me in the polls bc we going bald again.

at 4 am, all i want to do is set goals and reflect on the ones i have. in case ppl dont know, my room at home has a chalkboard wall and one sad day in 2020 at 1 am on a similar day to today minus the terrible air quality (thanks canada) i wrote down everything i wanted to be and do. here's what ive accomplished so far from it:

create beautiful websites

a good cook

have real gold jewelry

go to SF

go to mexico

go on a hike

get my drivers license

run a 5k

donate regularly

be confident

know recursion

be published

divest in unfulfilling relationships

perform on a stage

whats left that i can maybe accomplish this summer?

wellppp i looked and not much LMAO a lot of it r those big emotional "work on urself" type things and idk if im into that. or travel to big places and i have no money and apparently hawaii is cancelled now anyway :p

but i can do this post like @tumblasha inspired and make some goals that are sharable

become a better driver on the highway

ride an amtrak

become less addicted to my phone

talk less

run away more! wouldnt life be so fun if we all just lived more selfishly and wandered the way we were meant to

become untethered!!! (maybe delete everyone's location from my phone ... this would be a big one)

be more sustainable (maybe)

become unrecognizable (up for interpretation)

get good at doing my own pedicures

watch a lot of movies again (comment recommendations)

thats enough goals for now byee

#actualihouse

[daja-the-hypnokitten]

Jukebox reviews part 28! For context, see my post “A Project”     under this same tag. If you want to see a full list of his EMCSA   stories, they can be found here, sorted alphabetically.And if you want to see some of his drabbles, check out his blog at @jukeboxemcsa

Double Vision

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

1/2/2016                                       mc ff

First - ok, do the Ljosalfar also exist in the world of this story? (then again, are the Ljosalfar even a distinction from the Dokkalfar that existed pre-Christian influence? I dunno, the mythology is fairly incomplete as it stands, and none of this has anythign to do with the story so why am I spending so much time on this anyway?) Second, why does getting hit on the head give Jo the Second Sight? Or did she always have the capacity for it, and the hit just catalyzed it? REGARDLESS, as none of that has anythign to do with the actual control part of the story, moving on. It's a good story. Very fantasy, but I grew up LOVING mythology, so even though I'm a little rusty on it, seeing something drawing on myth is lovely. And the idea of control that most folk dont' notice, and that even though she *does* notice it Jo can't resist? It works within the context of the story. The actual control we see is fairly pedestrian by EMCSA standards, but the worldbuilding done around it means I like this story much more than I might have otherwise. 8/10 spirals 

 Wide Awake

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

1/2/2016                                       mc mf md

This falls into the therapist abusing trust trope I strongly dislike, but outside of that it's well done and put together. If you like the trope, give this one a read! 

 Take Me Home Tonight

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

1/9/2016                                       mc mf md

I don't know what to say about this story. It's so far out of my general realm of control I like that I have no frame of reference for it. It's half possession, half mind control of a different sort, and just not my style. But If you like dream and possession magic, give it a go? 

 Forever Your Girl

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

1/16/2016                                     mc mf md cb rb

Huh, from the title I was expecting this to be a Girls(tm) story, not a superhero story, and not such a tragic one at that. Oh, it has its moments of heat, during the transformation that takes place, but the end of it is just tragic. To be forced to continue loving someone who's dead, unable to truly mourn, No matter how much heat is in the rest of the story, I can't find it hot on the whole with that layer of tragedy underlying it. it's a GOOD story, just ... another one that isn't really erotica to me. 5/10 spirals 

 Trust and Obey

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

1/23/2016                                     mc ff hu

This story feels like a cross between Green Eggs and Ham and The Cat in the Hat. I get distracted by the couplets, especially the occasional slant rhyme, and honestly Dr Seuess-esque language in an erotica story is just offputting. 3/10 spirals 

 X, Y and Zee

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

1/30/2016                                     mc ff

... There is no IRB in the country that would approve this story, so this isn't just self-funded, but there can't be any meaningful oversight either. Also, her work needs more footnotes. Also, she clearly needs to review what we've learned from the Stanford Prison experiment; any time a researcher directly involves themselves in the experiment, as she did, it skews objectivity, and makes it less generalizable. We also ought to be presented with the method of recruitment; the nature of the recruitment can bias who is likely to apply. Further, any experiment of this sort should have included a boiler plate "you may revoke consent at any time" clause. Which clearly X was not provided. Putting the design/framing of the story aside, this is ... well, clearly it bothers me a little bit, given my science background, in the ways that it betrays the doctor's intentions with it. Which makes sense in context, but I get distracted considering how I'd improve the experiment. And it's a solid experiment for the goal of "how can I make girls want to have sex with me," rather than "how can I test response to authority?" - they *are* two different questions. The external view of the shifting mindset is less to my taste, and X's clear distress makes this less hot than it would be otherwise. 5/10 spirals 

 Kissing Disease

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

2/6/2016                                       mc ff mf fd md

Nope, I had to nope out of this one. I can't with stories of a pandemic spreading and people minimizing it until it's undeniable that it has to be worse that they say it is. I just can't. 

 Skeleton Key

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

2/13/2016                                     mc mf md

This one is a lot more magic than my preference, though the sudden internal changes are fascinating and add some heat for me. And Merrion acknowledging that he's being unethical actually makes me feel better, in some ways? I at least have more hope that he'll treat Paula right after this. And she clearly is getting something out of it, too, which helps. But it does come down to just being too magic for my tastes - though if you like magical artifacts driving the control, give this one a look. 6/10 spirals 

 The Bigger They Are, The Harder They Fall

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

2/20/2016                                     mc mf ff fd hm

I never quite understand how pleasure is that overwhelming for folk. It can be fun to play with, sure, but to make me completely let go around someone who puts me on edge? I don't get it and never will. Especially given the context of their interaction here. Maybe I'm just too ace to ever truly grok it, though. But the way she uses the sensation to take control, to build an effective overload induction as she does? It's well done and well written, if a bit cold for my personal preferences.  7/10 spirals 

 Zone Out

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

2/27/2016                                     mc

Another induction, and one that would be *really* good for folk who have trouble staying completely focused on a hypnotist, if it were a recording rather than a text induction, as it was clearly written to be read aloud.  The way it uses the idea of focusing on something other than the hypnotist, and letting their voice (and I want to say her, because I'm hearing Lady Ru'etha's voice reading it in my head, for all it's Jukebox's words) just slip past the conscious awareness. It does, of course, include arousal and orgasm suggestions, so be aware of that if you're susceptible to text inductions, but I also recommend hypnotists read this one and take some inspiration for if playing with folk who are easily distracted when trancing. 9/10 spirals

[aclanby-anyothername]

a clan by any other name.

prev | info | next

leaf-bare, year 1. moon 9.

content warning: blood, animal injury (major)

no snow was to fall that leaf-bare, just as it had not fallen on those lands in many, many moons. the nameless clan did not notice its absence, but i did. it saddened me deeply.

… enough about me, though. there were far more pressing issues at that moment. namely, the senior cat that was currently running across the woods, a dark trail of blood marking his path.

he desperately wanted to scream, to call for help, to use all of the power in his body to wail … however, he was afraid of attracting any further attention, and so he remained quiet.

he had been running, off and on, for over an hour at that point. he dare not stop running, lest what he was running from - who he was running from - catch up to him. he could not stop. if he did, he was sure that would be the end.

and so he kept running, his mangled leg trailing behind him, until he could not run any further.

that moment came sooner rather than later. in an instant, his vision went blurry, and he began to lose strength in his remaining legs. unable to fight what was happening, he stumbled to the ground and went unconscious.

???: (is this … is this really how it's all going to end? how disappointing …)

mothpaw: "careful! he just made a funny face …"

dustcloud: "i'm trying! i haven't had to do this since before you were even born …"

???: (who …?)

breezepelt: "do you think he'll be okay?"

dustcloud: "i … i don't know."

amberflame: "focus."

creekleap: "that's a lot of blood. good thing we have all those cobwebs stored up, yeah?"

???: groan

mothpaw: "look, he's waking up!"

mothpaw: "h-hi! we're glad you're awake. are you okay?"

???: "…"

mothpaw: "hello? can you hear me? are you okay?"

dustcloud: "don't push him, mothpaw. he shouldn't be exerting himself right now."

???: "i …"

his world went dark once again.

someone: "dustpaw! hey, dustpaw!"

???: (where … where am i?)

dustpaw: "w-whoa, slow down! what's got you in a hurry like that?"

the senior cat could only partially make out the scene in front of him. he tried to call out to the figures, but they could not hear him. he had no choice but to watch.

someone: "dustpaaaaaaw!"

dustpaw: "what?"

the other cat stood in front of dustpaw, grinning.

someone: "dustpaw. guess what."

dustpaw: "… i dunno."

she rolled her eyes. dustpaw was avoiding her gaze.

someone: "come on, guess!"

dustpaw sat there for a moment, lost in thought.

dustpaw: "did … did hollowtooth bring you a gift?"

the other cat looked at dustpaw as if he had said something heinous.

someone: "what? no! hollowtooth has been a complete grump lately."

dustpaw: "then what -"

she did not give him time to respond.

someone: "copperstar says i'm grounded again!"

dustpaw blinked.

someone: "can you believe him? the nerve!"

dustpaw: "oh, i … i'm sorry?"

someone: "if anyone should be sorry it should be HIM. what gives him the right to tell me what to do, anyway?"

dustpaw: "starclan, presumably."

someone: "ugh!"

the other cat slumped down next to dustpaw, defeated.

both of the cats were silent for a while, the rowdier of the two periodically scratching the dirt beneath her as deeply as she could.

someone: "… let's run away together, dustpaw."

dustpaw looked up, his eyes wide, and he choked on air.

dustpaw: "wh - sorry?"

someone: "you know what i said. let's run away together. nobody likes me here, anyway."

dustpaw: "but - that's not -"

she smiled sadly.

someone: "you don't need to spare my feelings, you know. i don't think they like you, either."

dustpaw: "…"

dustpaw: "… no."

someone: "what, you don't believe me? have you seen how copperstar looks at you when he thinks you're not looking? it's like he's seen a ghost! how is that fair to you? you haven't done anything wrong."

dustpaw: "no, i believe you. but i'm not going with you, bluepaw."

bluepaw: "…"

dustpaw looked up, and it was like his entire demeanor changed in an instant. bluepaw was taken aback at the sight.

dustpaw: "i … i don't want to give up. whatever reason copperstar is so distant with me, i want to prove myself to him. i want to become a warrior. and … i don't want to leave my friends. what about you?"

bluepaw: "…"

"… ugh, i hate when you're right."

the two sat in silence once more. every once in a while, bluepaw would look over to dustpaw, but his eyes were fixed firmly on a spot far beyond bluepaw's head.

eventually, dustpaw got up.

dustpaw: "did you … wanna go prank feathersong with me?"

the anxiety washed away from bluepaw's face immediately. she flashed a mischevious grin.

bluepaw: "i thought you'd never ask."

the senior cat's eyes opened once again, this time to a more familiar site. he was also in a great amount of pain. unable to hold his voice in any longer, he swore loudly.

dustcloud: "oh! you're awake. that's a relief …"

???: "hmph. relief for you maybe. this is the worst pain i've ever felt in my life."

dustcloud: "oh, sorry. i didn't mean to offend."

???: "hmph."

the cat paused, eyes squinting as he looked dustcloud up and down.

???: "looks familiar …"

dustcloud: "what?"

???: "oh, nothing, nothing."

a tense silence permeated the air, occasionally punctuated by the senior sucking in his breath.

dustcloud: "… may i ask what your name is?"

???: "cave."

dustcloud: "it's … it's nice to meet you, cave. my name is dustcloud."

cave: "hmph."

cave coughed, a fleck of blood escaping his lips. dustcloud looked away.

cave: "where're the others?"

dustcloud: "oh, they're out hunting. once they get back, we're all going to go check the perimeter -"

cave's memories resurfaced instantly, and his eyes grew wild.

cave: "WE NEED TO RUN! GET OUT OF HERE! HURRY!"

dustcloud's head spun around in a panic, trying to find the source of cave's duress.

dustcloud: "whoa - slow down - what's wrong?"

cave shook his head.

cave: "there's no time! we have - we have until nightfall, or else - or else - !"

dustcloud: "no! don't stand up so suddenly. your leg …"

as quickly as cave had stood up, he fell to the ground, his newly-bandaged leg crashing under his weight. he let out a hoarse scream, and dustcloud winced.

cave: "go without me if need be! RUN!"

dustcloud: "p-please! you can't be putting any more stress on yourself. please calm down."

cave continued to breathe heavily, but he said no more. dustcloud dare not say a word.

cave: "… fine. stay here, then. get what's coming for you."

dustcloud was growing increasingly frustrated, and it leaked out into his voice.

dustcloud: "what are you TALKING about? i don't understand."

cave: "you want to know how my leg got like this, right? here, let me tell you …"

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[baptistsuicidewidow]

Every night

going to bed I think about Jeremiah. I don't know why right before sleeping is when my brain wishes to think of him most.

there was a song from the sleepless in seattle soudtrack that reminds me of such a thing:

"When the sun is high in the afternoon sky You can always find something to do But from dusk till dawn as the clock ticks on Something happens to you

In the wee small hours of the morning While the whole wide world is fast asleep You lie awake and think about the boy And never ever think of counting sheep

When your lonely heart has learned its lesson You'd be his if only he'd call In the wee small hours of the morning That's the time you miss him most of all

When your lonely heart has learned its lesson You'd be his if only he'd call In the wee small hours of the morning That's the time you miss him most of all"

Then I got to thinking about the baby. I get to see the baby on the ultrasound November 7! I am excited to know which gender... If its a girl, I am naming her Hope. If its a boy I was thinking Job. I want my second baby to have as much of a chance to have a happy thriving life, even without a dad. As a former fan of conservative talkshows I have heard the statistics about the ones without fathers. TBH raising kids without their dad was my biggest fear/was why I waited so long to get married. I married the most righteous-God-loving guy I had ever met, and still this has happened. The whole ditching his kids thing. I still cant wrap my head around his wanting to kill himself, knowing that he was a father.

I read today in the Bible in Proverbs 17:6, "Children's children are the crown of old men; and the glory of children are their fathers."

How did he talk himself into killing himself knowing he would curse his children like that? I will never understand that, and neither will our kids.

Anyway. Today I got my haircut for the first time since before I got married. I am not wearing my ring anymore, since it seems to be a lie. The fact is, Jeremiah broke up with me, by ending his life. So I needn't keep my hair the way he likes, or wear the ring that correlates with the one that's buried in the cemetery.

Isaiah had his second haircut today too. He sat all by himself and remained calm the entire time. It was remarkable. He is so handsome and so smart and so sweet. I just cant understand how Jeremiah said goodbye to him forever, knowing how much Isaiah needed him.

The best I have is to let the kids know that their dad got mentally sick. Since that was the case. Or idk what all to say and when. I'm still wondering and I have several years to figure it out before they realize how different they are from other kids.

So the names are Hope, and Job. Being called Care all my life really helped me learn to live to embody how to care. And has taught me the importance of my life verse, 1 Peter 5:7, "Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you."

So Hope is what she will need.

Job is the book in the Bible that explains the unexplainable happening to us here on Earth, and Job shows us exactly the appropriate posture before our mighty God, regardless of our own lack of understanding for God's decision-making.

I should HOPE that JOB would find comfort in that book especially, understanding his place in this world (and the next) is bowing down at God's feet.

So color me finally excited for this pregnancy! Once we know if its pink or blue, things will be easier to shift in my storage unit, looking at onesies might get more fun, all that stuff will be clearer, thankfully. And we will have a better estimated due date. So yes I am getting more excited for this pregnancy.

"Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the womb is his reward." Psalm 127:3

[richardsphere]

Rwby Catchup Slogblog V8E11 

Just 4 more episodes after this one before i’ll be officially Up-to-date and able to decide if the shows overall trajectory is actually headed in a direction that might, one-day-hypothetically allow the characters to have fun again. (current prospects: Unlikely. I mean they went to a fairytail world with a literal country made of cake and didnt have so much as a single bit of fun or whimsy along the way.) So the mantle refugees fled into a mine underground didnt they? Is the river of liquid grimm still coming or did that just spontaneously stop existing after it spewed out a couple-dozen diggy boys? That thing was strangely anticlimactic for being an entire river of evil. ------ Dog boy finally does a betrayal (Winter saves his life by pretending she isnt). It seems that only 1 of the Aces is going to do the betrayal after all. (i was really gunning for Hariet) ------ And Ruby summarises my sentiments on the shows tone perfectly “we are in the same place as yesterday, arguing over nothing as the innocents all die”.  No amount of speeches about how “we must keep hope/there is still hope” can keep me invested in this worlds future when every victory the team has had has been either “bypass an obstacle to reach a destination” or “succeed at preventing an atrocity, only for it not to matter because imediatly have another enemy show up to cause the atrocity anyway”. (eg: Saving Haven didnt actually matter, they dont have any hunters in that place anymore and the amity broadcast just caused a world-wide grimmspike panic so Mistral is no more) ------- Nora calls out the guy whose soul gives him the power to “remove emotions” on how he doesnt like dealing with emotions.  Jaune puts a Do Not Disturb sign on the door on the way out of the room So Nora calls Ren out on how he doesnt need to do things on his own and needs to stick to the team. Then imediatly says “Im going to have to go Solo Nora for a while to find myself” which is a bit odd. Like i get the point but its just a bit. ------ Qrow and Robin point at an elevator (its probably the Traitorsquad) --- Ruby comes to conclusions about the Hound and her Mom. The theory is well founded but the fact the show is open and up front about it implies to me she’s wrong and its somehow worse.  there is a suspicion in my back-of-mind that I might’ve counted the number of seats at Salems table right after all, but that would probably feel terribly contrived as a twist. Yang talks about the importance of hope as a need to keep going. Ruby stresses the reality that hope is nothing but lies disguised as maybe’s. Penny’s awake again, nora does the Part of You speech again. Jaune Boosts her Aura to fight the virus because souls trump the limitations of the physical body in this univere. (betting this wont matter in the long run anyway because she’s going to give into Ironwoods Ultimatum) Ah emerald is doing the Zuko-style “I am trying to give a hopefull speech, but also i cant stop kicking my own ass during it”. I like it Ozpin does a speech. Second mentioning of Alex’s story. Oh no Ruby has a plan to save.help penny, and it involves the vault (and implicitly, the Spear in the vault).  --- Ruby calls James. Watts and Cinder are listening in, Neo is meeting them (the lamp is not visibly on her person. So either she didnt bring it or she can suddenly disguise the lamp when she couldnt before).